


The Memory of Snow

by museaway



Category: 07-Ghost
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Community: smallfandombang, Future Fic, Gen, M/M, Past Lives, Recovered Memories, Reincarnation, Reunions
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-17
Updated: 2018-04-17
Packaged: 2019-04-23 23:04:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 22,571
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14342847
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/museaway/pseuds/museaway
Summary: Teito has suffered from nightmares for as long as he can remember: brutal images of war with no explanation and no relief—except for the times he was visited by a man in dark robes who his mother insisted was imaginary. The nightmares continue, but the man hasn’t come to him in years.To escape what he believes is a damaged soul, Teito enters the church and is apprenticed to Bishop Labrador, a friend he’s known since birth. But two months after his seventeenth birthday, he dreams of meeting the Overseer of Heaven, and of the Overseer’s promise to return the memories from Teito’s past life when he reaches the same age in his next.After his memories are restored, Teito struggles to reconcile his two selves, questioning whether he should remain with the church or dedicate his life to the growing movement to restore the Raggs Kingdom. The return of his memories also brings the return of Frau, now Verloren’s successor, who has kept his distance since Teito was a child. Frau wants Teito to give up the memories and lead a happy life, but Teito isn’t willing to let them—or him—go.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This story is based on the manga 07-Ghost. It takes place 15 years after the end of Kapitel 99, diverging from the canon universe following Frau’s final line, “Good day for a picnic.” It ignores the summary of Teito’s future where he becomes pope, Kapitel 100 (which isn’t included with the final US volume), and any canon from _Battle Rabbits_ , which I’ve never read. 
> 
> If you haven’t read the series in a while, I put together [this crash course for my beta](https://docs.google.com/document/d/1WbZNv9GOUyDGuaZV8qVb0-xGTwzouNVz2y2yJDKRvIo/edit?usp=sharing) that recaps all characters and places mentioned in the fic. 
> 
> Teito is between 16 and 17 in the manga. The reincarnated Teito is 17 when this story begins and 18 by the end. This is one of the most chaste stories I’ve ever written, and the final scene aside, is strong friendship with a romantic undertone. That’s how I interpreted Teito and Frau’s relationship in the manga. Teito is a bishop through the end of the story. If any of that will bother you, please don’t read any further. 
> 
> Finally, this story uses naming conventions from the VIZ English translations of _07-Ghost_ , not the anime subtitles, so certain names (like Lazette and Zehel) may be spelled differently than what you’re used to seeing. It also contains details from the prequel, _07-Ghost Children_.
> 
> Written for the Small Fandom Big Bang 2018 | [Fanmix by karrenia_rune](https://archiveofourown.org/works/13992600) | Beta read by amoosebouche

Two months after his seventeenth birthday, Wahrheit Teito Klein walked through a tall pair of doors into a strange dream.

The doors were immense, taller than any he’d seen in the empire, higher even than the doors of the Barsburg Church had seemed the first time his uncle had carried him inside. They rose from the clouds, doors constructed of finely polished wood, and the gleaming metal handles glinted his distorted reflection as he went past.

Or it might have been his reflection. His face was so thin that his eyes appeared huge and determined, like a child’s eyes. He knew them only by color. The skin on his cheeks was a canvas of scars he had never earned, and his hair was shorter than he wore it and crudely cut, as if with a knife by an untrained hand. His clothes, too, he did not recognize: shabby and blood-soaked. Not a school uniform, not a bishop’s robes.

All of this he could see clearly in the tiny reflection, in startling detail only a dream could provide. He was so surprised he gasped and turned fully to the handle, bringing a hand to his face only to watch the reflection touch his in kind, and the next moment drop away in confusion. This couldn’t be a memory, but he was unable to shake the sense of it being real.

Clasped in his other hand was a massive black scythe. It seemed to absorb all of the surrounding light, and terminated in a shape that Teito, an apprentice bishop, knew well: the mark of Verloren. The scythe soared twice his height, so massive it was nearly impossible to walk while holding it, but hold it he must. He knew this somehow, as much as he knew he needed to breathe in order to live. Delivering the scythe was his _purpose_. But why would he dream of holding Verloren’s scythe?

Since the time he could remember, he’d dreamed of war, of imagery so brutal Teito had woken screaming countless times, certain his hands were bloodstained, that he lay on a field of death. Sometimes that field was frozen, covered in a layer of ice, and all around him snow tumbled silently to cover the bodies.

This dream was peaceful, and because of that, quietly unnerving. He entered a throne room. The room beyond the doors was as tall and wide as the stratosphere, the clouds solid as ground underfoot. They swallowed his feet below the ankle. He was not in District 1; he was not in the church. He knew that much. This was an _end_ to something, but to what? The answer was here. He was certain he knew it, the same way he knew he could not drop the scythe, but the answer evaded him as deftly as a Fyulong. His heart ached as if a part of him had remained behind somewhere.

There was a great rumbling, like the sound of an island sinking, as the doors closed behind him, but Teito didn’t startle. He walked forward with purpose through ever-thickening clouds.

The clouds parted. Teito stood at the edge of a rift that looked far, far down to the unknown, but he felt no fear as he approached it. He knew he would not fall.

Beyond the rift, seated on a throne constructed of starlight, sat the Overseer of Heaven. Teito had no need to ask who he was. It was as clear to him as his own name. The Overseer was in the shape of a human, clad in white and leaning forward, as if he’d been awaiting Teito’s arrival. Light radiated from him in all directions. It was nearly impossible to look him in the eye.

Teito fell to his knees.

“I return this scythe to you.” He laid it down and bowed his head.

“Rise, Teito Klein,” said the Overseer in a voice that seemed to rumble like thunder. “Few humans have had the courage to make this journey. You have sacrificed a great deal to see me.”

“Yes,” Teito said.

“And what do you wish in return?

Teito swallowed. He was consumed by an unfathomable sadness, a loss so profound it stung his eyes with tears. He saw faces he recognized (his mother, Labrador and Castor, a boy with a cross-shaped scar on his cheek—Mikage’s previous incarnation?) and some he didn’t (a man with bandaged eyes, a tall brute with dark hair on a hawkzile, a young blond boy with the power of healing zaiphon).

The memory of the man on the hawkzile hurt especially. In the memory, Teito was on the hawkzile as well, and held onto the man with both arms.

He reminded Teito of a friend he’d had in early childhood. Zee had been an immense man, taller than anyone Teito knew and always dressed in black, but he’d never frightened Teito. His eyes, blue as the summer sky, had been familiar. He would visit after Teito had woken from a nightmare and remain until the phantom stench of blood had faded.

His mother had said Zee wasn’t real, but nothing his mother said could convince Teito that he’d imagined him. Even so, over the years her doubt weathered his confidence, and by the time he’d turned seven he’d stopped speaking of Zee to anyone.

He believed Castor and Labrador had been able to see him as well. During a picnic, many years ago now, their eyes had drifted in the direction Zee had appeared and softened when he’d ruffle Teito’s hair before parting. Soft as the breeze. It had been years since Zee’s last visit; Teito couldn’t have been eleven and he’d clung to Zee’s shoulders after a nightmare, trembling.

“Breathe, you brat,” Zee had chuckled and although he’d had no heartbeat and skin like ice, he’d felt immeasurably warm.

“Please take me back to this world,” he heard himself say to the Overseer, words he recognized from an echo, from the wispy memory of another dark-haired man: his face not Zee’s but very like it, crouched beside him during a war. That man had taught him to say those words when Teito was very young.

“So be it,” said the Overseer.

“But I have a request,” Teito continued, tasting blood he’d never shed. “Let me retain my memories from this life. The people I love. Let me remember them when I go back.”

The Overseer did not answer for a while. He looked down on Teito from his throne and slowly passed a hand over his mouth.

“You are not the first to make such a request, but I have never granted it. Even my Ghosts only retained memories from one generation. It would be unfair if humans could accumulate knowledge across lifetimes. Why should you be any different?”

The image of the first dark-haired man—the one on the hawkzile—reappeared, only now his hair was pale as sunlight, eyes the same clear blue as the fountain splashing in the church’s courtyard. Like Zee’s eyes. Castor and Labrador stood beside him in bishop’s robes.

Again, Teito thought of Mikage’s cross-shaped scar. It had been caused by an accident from fighting with his brother. Teito knew this with certainty, just as he knew that Mikage preferred the lower bunk and thought provoking wild animals was a worthy past time. Teito now remembered himself and this human Mikage laughing across a mess hall, standing side-by-side in an arena, embracing each other on the bridge that led to the Barsburg Church—things he had never seen in the many photographs the Celestines had shown him during his visits.

He had never had a dream so vivid, as though he could touch every stone that formed the church or feel the softness of the cloak around Mikage’s shoulders, his breath warm on Teito’s neck. He couldn’t know these things. It was less like a dream and more like memories pounding their hands against the windows of his mind, begging to be let out.

He felt the swell of loss as Mikage’s arms around him disappeared. Teito looked down onto black mourning robes and wept.

When he blinked, he was again standing in front of the Overseer, who awaited his answer.

_Why should you be any different?_

“I shouldn’t,” Teito heard himself say.

The Overseer raised his eyebrows and sat back. “Most people beg at this point. But you are unlike most creations, Teito Klein. Your motivations are pure. I’m inclined to grant your wish with a condition: your memories will not return until you’ve passed the age you are now and are capable of handling them. They’ll remain locked.”

Teito’s heart beat steadily. “And Frau?”

Frau?

“I’ll see he’s taken care of,” said the Overseer. “You’ll have a choice of whether you want to keep those memories or if they should remain sealed. You might find that you’re complete without them. Are you certain you want the burden?”

“They made me who I am,” Teito said. “How will I release them?”

“You will dream of this meeting. When you wake, send a prayer to me asking for their return.”

* * *

The dream’s details didn’t fade after he’d woken up, but once he’d opened his eyes, dazzled, he was unable to go back to sleep even though it was long before he was due downstairs. He sat up in bed with his knees drawn to his chest and his arms wrapped around them, thinking. Times like this, he wished Mikage were still small enough to sleep inside with him, but once his wingspan had become destructive, it had been prudent for him to spend the night in the stable. He was a third the size of a grown Fyulong; it was unlikely he’d grow full-size as long as he lived among humans, but Mikage had chosen a life with Teito, or so Labrador had told him. Teito dressed quietly in the dark and went out to see him.

The sun wasn’t up yet, but it was close enough to the horizon that Teito could make out the buildings and the walkways surrounding the Barsburg Church. The air smelled of rain. There was always an aura of peace surrounding the church, but he liked it best at times like this when the whole district was quiet and he could hear his own footsteps echo in the courtyard. This place had felt familiar the first time he’d stepped foot in it, as though he’d already spent a lifetime here. He’d known instantly that he was meant to devote his life to this church, to give it in service.

The stables were a pleasant walk from the church, down pathways softened by years of Labrador’s handiwork. Teito often walked this route and trailed his fingers across the flowers. Labrador said they were drawn to his zaiphon: a gentle healing force. Teito had summoned attack zaiphon only once in his life and had felt so wretched afterwards, he’d vowed never to do it again. The flowers, wet from rain, trembled happily against his fingertips as the stable came into view.

Hawkziles had long ago replaced hoofed animals for transportation, but the church kept a small herd of horses out of nostalgia. The stables had been modified for Mikage when Teito had come to the district to study. It had been a difficult decision to leave home, but his mother and uncle—an archbishop in another district—had supported him. Two years ago, his uncle had made the journey with him to District 7 and stayed several days at the church while Teito adjusted. But it had taken months for the church to feel like home, even though the bishops Labrador and Castor had both been there, and Teito had known them since childhood. The church could swallow his mother’s home a hundred times over. He used to lose himself in the corridors or tuck himself against the decorative roof and watch the stars.

Mikage was asleep in the largest stall with his head tucked beneath a massive wing. Teito lifted the edge and slipped underneath. It was hard to believe there had been a time when he’d held onto Mikage, when he had been small enough to fit within Teito’s arms.

Teito had hoped he would find relief from his thoughts here, but they chased him towards sleep. The dream was no more real than his nightmares, and yet dismissing it felt irresponsible—even dangerous. Why would his memories be a burden? Why did he dream of such a thing at all?

There was a terrible ache in his chest, an emptiness he couldn’t reconcile. He hid his face in Mikage’s side, where his scent was strongest, and slept.

* * *

Bells greeted the sunrise. Teito fed and watered Mikage before he made his way back toward the church for breakfast. Bishop Labrador was coming up the path. Even at a distance, Teito could see the leaves in his hair, darkening along the hem of his robes from last night’s rain. He’d slept outside again; Castor called it an old habit.

“Good morning, Teito!” Labrador said musically. Teito disliked the use of a title. Outside of formal settings where he was recognized as part of Barsburg’s royal family, said to be the Empress’s doing, everyone called him by name. Teito wouldn’t come of age for another ten months and even then, he had no kingdom to rule.

“Good morning,” he said.

“The flowers say it will be hot today.” Labrador pinched a leaf from his hair and cast it into the garden. He looked properly at Teito and his eyes took on a wistful cast of concern. “Something’s troubling you.”

“It’s nothing. A strange dream. I’m not able to shake it.”

“Was it another nightmare?”

It had always been easy to speak with Labrador. He often knew what Teito would say before he got the words out, and he never offered judgement, only empathy and compassion. Teito had liked him best growing up. Labrador had never scolded Teito if he pulled out plants instead of weeds. He’d patiently explain the difference and mark Teito’s height against his mother’s garden wall. Teito had been honored when he’d been appointed Labrador’s apprentice—and not a little relieved to escape Assistant Archbishop Castor’s sternness.

“I dreamt that I had an audience with the Overseer of Heaven,” Teito said.

“Oh?”

“I somehow had possession of Verloren’s scythe. I surrendered it in exchange for a wish.”

Canting his head, Labrador smiled curiously. “And what was that?”

“To retain my memories of a former life.”

“What did the Overseer say?”

“Does it matter? It was only a dream.”

Labrador hummed. “Dreams tell us a great deal about ourselves. Perhaps this one has stayed with you because you have something to learn from it.”

Teito brushed his hand along the flower border. “He told me he would grant my wish, but that my memories would remain sealed until I prayed for him to unlock them.”

Labrador smiled deeply and cut a bloom from his roses, tucking it into Teito’s collar. “Tell me more over breakfast. I understand we received a generous gift of eggs.”

* * *

They finished eating before Castor joined them. The nuns had already cleared away the food. The dining hall was empty except for the two of them and Sister Rosalie, who was sweeping under an adjacent table. Teito traced a piece of red stained glass in the window.

“I apologize. I lost track of time,” Castor said, scooting into place beside Labrador. He smelled of sawdust.

“We aren’t in a rush,” Labrador said. “I saved you a plate.”

The first wisps of gray had lightened Castor’s temples, and Labrador had similarly lost some of the youthful roundness in his cheeks, but neither of them had significantly aged since Teito was a child. He attributed it to the church’s serenity.

“Teito,” Labrador said, drawing his attention. “Why don’t you tell Castor about the dream you had?”

“Another nightmare?” Castor said, pushing up his glasses.

Teito shook his head. “Not this time.”

Castor stopped chewing halfway through Teito’s story and laid down his silverware. He folded his hands together and looked at Teito seriously.

“Is there anything else you remember?” Castor said.

“Anything...else?”

“Other details from the dream,” Labrador said.

“Well,” Teito mused, “I saw Mikage as a human.”

“That’s not surprising,” Castor said. “You’ve been close with his family since you were young and have seen photographs. What else?”

“I saw myself with him in this church. I felt what it would feel like to lose him.”

“That couldn’t have been pleasant,” said Labrador. “Drink this.”

He passed Teito a cup of chamomile tea. Teito took a small sip to appease him and dried his mouth. The bishops politely waited for him to continue.

“I...I also saw a man.” Teito felt his cheeks grow warm. “He reminded me of someone I used to know when I was younger. I’m sure I’m just remembering that person, but I saw images of things I know we never did together.”

“Such as?” asked Labrador.

“We were together on a hawkzile. It might have been a race?” Teito swallowed. “I saw him here at the church, as well, with the two of you.”

Castor’s tone was neutral. “He was a bishop?”

“I think so. He was wearing robes.”

Labrador smiled and rested his chin in the cradle of his fingers. “What did he look like? Your friend?”

Teito frowned. “He was tall. Blond. He had very blue eyes. His eyes are what I remember most.”

A mild look passed between the two bishops. “When’s the last time you saw him?” Castor asked.

“Maybe six or seven years ago, when I was having nightmares every night. I don’t remember calling for him, but whenever I woke up, he was there. He’d stay until morning.”

“Incredible,” Castor murmured.

“What’s incredible?” Teito asked.

“That you could still see him at that age. I knew you could when you were a baby, but we figured the ability would fade as you grew up.”

Teito’s mouth opened of its own accord. “My mother insisted I made him up.”

“Of course you didn’t,” Labrador said.

“And you could see him?”

“So can your uncle,” Castor said. “But your mother cannot. From her perspective, what she told you isn’t a lie.”

Labrador smiled. “Don’t hold it against her.” He looked at Castor. “What do you think?”

“I’m surprised the Overseer agreed to restore his memories,” Castor said. “It makes sense of his nightmares, though. His subconscious has been aware the memories are sealed. They’ve likely bled over since he was born, just as we feared.”

Labrador nodded sagely and Teito blinked.

“You think my dream was real?”

“Why do you doubt its validity?” Castor asked.

“It doesn’t make any sense. What did I have to do with Verloren?”

“Perhaps we should tell him,” Labrador said, but Castor straightened. He reminded Teito of the towers that had once held statues of the Seven Ghosts sent to guard the earth. Their towers stood fast even during a bitter Barsburg winter.

“You’ve been offered a unique gift, Teito,” Castor said. “The Overseer allows no one to retain memories from more than one lifetime.”

“He mentioned that.” Teito pressed his thumbs to his temples. “What if I don’t want them?”

“That’s your decision.”

“He called them a burden. Is there a reason I shouldn’t want them back?” Teito twisted his hands together in his lap. “Will I be disappointed with myself, with the person I used to be?”

“Not at all,” said Labrador. “You were an honorable person.”

“I imagine he wants to spare you pain,” said Castor. “Your previous life was very different from this one. You suffered in ways no child should.”

“And those things won’t be easily forgotten, once seen,” said Labrador.

“What would you do in my place?” Teito asked.

“I would take a walk in the garden,” said Labrador, turning his face toward the sun filtering through the stained-glass windows. “Flowers are good listeners.”

“If you have any concerns, come and see us,” Castor said.

As Teito left the dining hall, he overheard Labrador say, “Frau’s going to be furious.”

There was that name again, but who Frau was and why his opinion mattered was a mystery to Wahrheit Teito Klein.

* * *

Possessing a set of memories that didn’t belong to him felt a little obscene, like using someone else’s toothbrush. But if he, in his former life, had felt it necessary to pass information to another version of himself, surely there was something worth remembering?

He spent mid-morning helping the nuns sort donations. Besides assisting Labrador with his medical research, much of Teito’s work benefited the less fortunate. Not long ago, this church had battled dark forces that sought to overtake humanity, but those forces had largely been eradicated. “A sacrifice,” Castor had called it, though he’d been spartan with details.

Teito liked the routine of sorting items. It was funny the sorts of things people gave away: books worn along their spines from being read so often, toys with limbs stitched back into place. Things that had once been loved. Perhaps that’s why they passed them on.

It was as he held the effigy of a rabbit in his hand that Teito said the prayer. Nothing around him changed. Physically, he felt no different. From one moment to the next, his breathing and his heartbeat were the same. And yet he became a different person in the fraction of time it took to blink. It came on him suddenly, bubbling up through the cracks in his psyche. Clutching the rabbit to his chest, he bent over to catch his breath.

He remembered his name.


	2. Chapter 2

When Teito had first come to the church to study, he’d slipped and fallen into one of the waterways that flowed through the main courtyard. Since he’d grown up in the country with his mother and uncle, without any deep water source nearby, he had never learned to swim. The blue water he’d thought of as beautiful had dragged him down, flooding his mouth and nose, and all his thrashing had driven him only deeper. If not for Lazette, he would have drowned.

He was drowning now. In his mind were two distinct versions of himself, and the person he had been up until moments ago was struggling to accept what he had been in a previous life. _A burden_. Yes, he understood now.  

The two sets of memories conflicted. He’d been without a mother but had grown up with her. He was fluent in pain but had never suffered a day in his life. It must have been difficult for the people around him to watch him grow, looking so much like his former self. Bishop Hakuren had sometimes looked at Teito like he might cry. Teito hadn’t understood that until now. He remembered Hakuren at this age; they should both be in their forties, but he had lost seventeen years.

And Frau. Why had he stopped coming? Teito knew he was alive because of what Castor and Labrador had said that morning, but that meant Frau was intentionally keeping his distance.

Lazette had come above the surface and was stroking a wet hand over Teito’s hair, murmuring in her language that only Castor could understand. She had been willing to die for Castor once. It shocked Teito how easily that information came to mind, just as it shocked him that he knew Castor’s real name and the fact that he’d been killed by his own father.

_Father_. Teito remembered his own, a man with dark hair and a face like his. He knew his own place as the prince of a fallen kingdom.

He was on the verge of tears but would not embarrass himself in front of Lazette.

“Excuse me,” he said to the nuns. “I’m suddenly not feeling well.”

He hurried through the courtyard to the pathways that wound toward the stables. He didn’t make it to Mikage’s side, ducking to retch behind one of Labrador’s silver rose bushes.

How had he lived before? How had he endured so much suffering? Why had his soul been reincarnated, knowing how many lives he’d taken?

He’d been reborn as someone pure like Mikage. Teito had lived seventeen years without missing Mikage’s human face and now it was as though he’d died only moments ago with Teito’s arms around him. Mikage must have been able to sense Teito’s distress, because he found him crying in the garden. He lumbered in with his huge dragon body and flopped down beside him.

“I’m sorry I left you,” Teito cried. His throat burned, but his thoughts felt less unstable with Mikage beside him. “Thank you for staying with me.”

Mikage gave a little huff. If he’d still been human, it might have come out as a laugh. He would’ve put Teito into a headlock for speaking nonsense, but in this form, he affectionately cuffed him with a wing as if to say being together was a given.

“Maybe we’ll both be human next time,” Teito said.

Mikage smiled and laid his head on the lawn. The scent of roses was heavy, and since he hadn’t slept the full night, Teito felt drowsy but remained conscious. He couldn’t control his emotions. As soon as he stopped crying, another memory would surface and with it a deluge. Tears had soon soaked the front of his robes.

He heard a set of footsteps approach. It was just like Labrador to come to check on him. If there was a flower that could ease the chaotic transition between merging consciousnesses, Labrador surely knew it. Teito didn’t raise his head. The footsteps came closer than Labrador would have, and the owner of those footsteps settled on the grass behind Teito, leaning a familiar weight against his back.

“There’s no reason for you to feel like this anymore. Why couldn’t you just be happy? Damned brat. You were always too curious for your own good.”

Teito gasped at the sound of Frau’s voice and bit back a sob. “ _You’re_ the idiot! Why have you been avoiding me all this time?”

“So you missed me?”

“What are you doing here?”

“The Overseer sent me in case you changed your mind and want your memories resealed.”

“No. I... I need time to reconcile them.” Teito turned his face, but all he could see was the midnight black of Frau’s hood. Teito was taller than he had been in his past life, but his head still fit irritatingly well between Frau’s shoulder blades. “I remember my life, _this_ life, but I remember my other life just as clearly. Is that what it felt like when you became Zehel?”

“Sort of. I don’t really remember much from that time,” Frau said. He sighed. “Are you okay?”

Teito wiped his eyes. “That’s my line,” he laughed but quickly sobered. “All those times you came to see me growing up, you never said anything. Not even your name.”

“I was trying to spare you. Anyway, it’s not like you would have believed me. It’s a pretty wild story.”

“I’m sorry I couldn’t save you.”

“There you go, apologizing for things you couldn’t control. I’m sitting here right now because of you.”

They were quiet for a while. Teito rubbed a rose leaf between his fingers until the fibers split. “Why did you stop coming to see me?”

Frau took a breath and tipped his head back so it rested against Teito’s. “It’s rough knowing you don’t need me in this life. When you started walking, I had to force myself not to catch you every time you fell down. Wasn’t so difficult when you were a little squirt, but the older you got...”

Teito accepted the explanation. “What about you? You gave up your body to become the scythe. How are you…”

“Talking to you right now? I made my own deal with the Overseer. You are speaking to the new God of Death.”

“I thought the Overseer realized the error in giving too much power to one person?”

Frau nudged his back. “Verloren didn’t have you to keep him on the right path.”

That response made Teito feel hot and angry at once. “Can I see you?” he asked. “Am I still able to?”

Frau was quiet for a moment and then the warm pressure left Teito’s back, falling steadily onto his shoulder instead, the way Frau had touched Teito in the dream hours ago, the way he’d comforted Teito growing up, the way he hadn’t touched him in seventeen years. Teito thought of their hands joined on the side of a cast-iron tub in Werneza Castle and turned around.

Amidst the splendor of Labrador’s rose garden, Frau knelt before Teito on the sun-warmed grass. Nothing in his countenance had changed. He was exactly as Teito remembered, down to the metal ear cuff, the artfully disheveled appearance of his hair. A blade of grass stuck in his razor grin and beside him lay a scythe.

Teito raised his palm to Frau’s cheek to make sure he wasn’t dreaming, but stopped shy of touching his skin, remembering what happened to Eve.

“Will I die if I—?”

“Didn’t kill you as a kid. Go on. I’m the new and improved version.”

Frau’s skin wasn’t hot or cold, but it was solid and real. It felt human.

“You look the way I remember,” Teito said.

Frau’s grin sharpened. “You don’t think I’m better looking?”

“Your robes are more modest,” Teito said, noting the higher neckline.

“Suits the promotion.” Frau raised an eyebrow. “Do you plan on stroking my face all day?”

Teito pulled his hand back like he’d scalded it in the wash bins. “I was not stroking it.”

Though he laughed, the amusement in Frau’s eyes evaporated in the time it took Teito to swallow. In its place, Frau looked almost sad. “You’re really going to keep those memories?”

“Are you so eager for me to forget?”

“I don’t want to watch you suffer anymore.”

“You were the one who told me I had to live through my feelings,” Teito said. “That I couldn’t run away from them.”

“I didn’t want you ending your life over Mikage’s death. I would’ve said anything to make you keep living.”

“Like steal dragons?”

“I don’t regret that,” Frau said stubbornly.

Teito felt as happy as he had singing with Frau on the church’s rooftop after everyone else had gone to sleep, or when Frau had appeared after one of Teito’s nightmares. Beside them, Mikage went on sleeping.

“Does this mean you’ll come and see me now?” Teito said. “Tell me this isn’t the only time.”

Frau smiled. “God’s not that cruel. Anyway, I think he learned his lesson with Verloren and Eve.”

Teito was placated for the moment. “Good.”

He put his arms around Frau’s neck and inhaled the faint scent of his skin—not quite a human scent, not quite odorless. Frau stiffened against him, but he eventually sighed and put his arms around Teito in return. The longer they held on, Teito’s emotions began to rise and soon he was fighting back another round of tears, clutching pathetically at Frau’s robes.

“They said I’d made you up.”

Frau hummed. “Is that your way of saying you missed me after all?”

For the first time in his life, Teito experienced a dual reaction to a question. Wahrheit Tiashe Raggs began to protest, “Of course I didn’t miss you, you—” but Wahrheit Teito Klein took over and the words died half out. The tone of Frau’s voice had sent chills through his body. He sighed and tightened his arms around Frau’s neck.

“Why do you turn everything into a joke?” Teito said.

“Makes the rejection sting less.”

“Stop talking about yourself like that!”

“Saying goodbye to people’s part of my job, brat,” Frau said, ruffling Teito’s hair. He smoothed it back down but let his hand remain. Teito’s heartbeat felt unsteady.

“You look like a giant in those robes.”

“And you’re still a shrimp,” Frau said. “Have you had your milk today?”

“I’ll have you know I’m four inches taller in this life.”

Mikage chose then to lift his head and sniff in Frau’s direction. His enormous size surprised one half of Teito, who drifted a hand to settle on his forehead, stroking over the cross-shaped birthmark.

“Can you see him, too?” Teito asked him, his eyes drifting up to look at Frau.

“Pya,” said Mikage, who still avoided speaking human languages even after eighteen years, but Teito understood him.

* * *

Frau stayed longer than Teito had expected, until it was early afternoon and the sun breached the garden wall. Occasionally someone poked their head into the garden, but those that did saw only Teito and Mikage lying beneath a tree.

They made no ceremony in parting. Frau squeezed Teito’s shoulder and was gone.

At dinner, Teito sat across from Labrador and Castor, feeling they could see straight through him. He did his best not to reveal anything on his face, but it was fruitless. Even without his Ghost powers, Labrador possessed foresight.

“I knew he would be upset,” Labrador sighed happily. “He must have been so pleased to see you.”

“He could have had the decency to stay for dinner,” Castor muttered.

“He hasn’t changed at all. But I expect we’ll be seeing more of him now.”

“Did he say when he would come back?” Castor said to Teito.

“No.” His face felt hot. It must be the Antwort spices.

“I’m sure Teito will see him very soon,” said Labrador with a smile.

Teito felt as though his insides were on display. He was thankful mealtime was almost over, that he could have a few minutes alone before evening mass began, and nearly cursed when the nuns presented platters of fruits.

“Oh, how lovely,” Labrador said, filling Teito’s plate to the brim. “There’s dessert today.”

* * *

Assistant Archbishop Castor conducted mass like he was leading a symphony. Attendance had swollen when it was announced he would accept the position; Castor refused to believe it had anything to do with his looks (Labrador argued otherwise) and more to the point that he brought a younger perspective to the pulpit.

Labrador said he hadn’t expected Castor to accept the promotion, for the same reason he’d refused it before: it required too much time away from his hobbies. But Teito suspected Fest had been the real reason for Castor’s decision. It must’ve been easier to hide as a humble priest than someone in a more prominent position.

There was something lyrical in Castor’s movements before the congregation. He held his baculus aloft, and when he did the eyes of the crowd lifted in time with his hand to gaze upon the headpiece. In the courtyard outside, they spoke his name with reverence. They didn’t know that when Teito had been small, Castor had carried him on his hip and let Teito tuck wildflowers into his hair. Now, as an assistant bishop, Teito was honored whenever he was asked to perform the mass alongside him.

Teito had never led mass on his own. He likely wouldn’t earn such privilege for many years, not unless he was assigned to an insignificant church that couldn’t support above one bishop. But that didn’t bothered him. The repetition of the ritual was comforting. He stood beside Labrador unless a higher-ranking bishop was visiting from another district. Last month, Teito’s uncle had drawn a crowd so large, people had stood in the wings and down the front steps to hear him speak.

At the time, Teito couldn’t have known the significance of watching his uncle perform the mass, or why Kreuz had paused outside of Vertrag’s tower, causing Teito to walk into him.

Labrador gently nudged Teito to let him know he’d lost his focus. His veil kept his embarrassment from being obvious to the congregation.

“Lift your hearts and eyes to God,” Castor said.

Teito dutifully raised his chin in symbolic gesture. A ribbon of smoke twisted from the choir loft where someone watched with his feet crossed on the railing, and the swelling Teito felt in his heart was both pride and something overwhelming he couldn’t name.

The choir loft was empty after mass had finished, though the scent of tobacco lingered. Teito touched fresh ash on the floor and rubbed it gently between his fingers.

* * *

That night, at Labrador’s urging, Teito wrote his mother and uncle. He walked the letters to the deposit box and cooled his head against the church’s stone wall for a few moments. Kreuz would doubtlessly want him to visit soon, but he wasn’t ready for the stillness of the countryside, for his mother’s patient silence.

As he was falling asleep that night, he felt the weight of someone sitting down on the foot of his bed. He lifted his head.

“Do you still want to eat my soul?” Teito said.

Frau grinned. “Nah. I lost that hunger a long time ago.”

“I didn’t think I would see you again today.”

“It’s been a while since I attended a service. Work gets in the way.”

Teito licked his lips. “What’s it like?”

“Peaceful. I always did like helping people move on.”

“Isn’t it overwhelming?”

“Everyone’s gotta go sometime. Besides, a lot of‘em come back.” Frau smiled and ruffled Teito’s hair. “Sorry for waking you.”

“I don’t mind.”

“Tell Castor I’ll swing by for breakfast next time.”

“You’re going already?”

“Was planning on it. I only came to...”

“To what?” Teito said. “To take my memories while I was asleep?”

“To make sure you weren’t having nightmares. I hated watching you go through that alone.”

Teito closed his eyes. “Frau?”

“Yeah?”

“Sing like you used to. Just for a little while.”

“ _Sing_ to you?” Frau snorted. “You _are_ a prince.”

“Hardly anyone here speaks the language. I didn’t...I didn’t realize I missed it before.”

“Surely your uncle uses it when he speaks to you.”

“Please? I want to hear your voice.”

Frau sighed and crushed his cigarette on the windowsill. “You know the sound carries in this place.”

“I thought they couldn’t hear you.”

“One song.” Frau spoke in a southern Raggs’ dialect. “Go to sleep, brat.”

Teito’s stomach felt like Labrador had conjured an entire greenhouse of vines in his gut. He fell asleep listening to the sound of Frau’s voice, inhaling his not-quite-human scent.

* * *

A month of visits brought the start of summer, and Labrador caught Teito staring aimlessly out of the stained-glass windows in the vestry as they prepared for morning mass, singing a hymn under his breath.

“You look a thousand miles away,” Labrador said.

Teito wrenched his eyes away from the window. Labrador’s expression was soft and understanding. He sometimes reminded Teito so much of a flower that the resemblance was uncanny: the same delicate constitution, the same unearthly beauty. The name Ilyusha suited him better, but Labrador had never reclaimed that name or anything that tied him to the Krat house.

He adjusted Teito’s mitre. “I don’t need foresight to know what’s going on in your head. You’ve been distracted lately.”

Teito stood and gave a half bow. “I apologize. I’ll work harder.”

Smoothing his own veil, Labrador laughed. “It’s not a criticism. It’s to be expected. Your mind is somewhere else. If you want to confide in me, you have my promise I won’t share what you say with anyone. What were you singing?”

“Oh, I was trying to remember the words to a song Frau was singing last night. They—the Sky Pirates—used to transport survivors from Raggs, so he knows a bit of the language. I asked him to sing for me.”

Labrador canted his head. “He comes to see you?”

Teito would never lie to Labrador, yet he felt uncomfortable admitting that he’d seen Frau nearly every night since his memories returned and sometimes the following morning.

“He stops by every few days,” Teito muttered, fussing with his stole to give his hands an occupation. “I assumed he visits everyone.”

Labrador only smiled until his eyes nearly disappeared in the fullness of his cheeks. “You’re one of the few people who’s ever gotten close to him. I was almost glad when that collar forced you into each other’s company. Of course, we had no idea how that would all turn out.”

“I don’t regret it.”

“You have a beautiful soul. I see why he’s always been drawn to it.”

“That was because of the scythe,” Teito muttered and tugged the veil firmly across his face.

Footsteps approached the vestry—probably Castor come to join them. Lazette’s habit was missing from its peg. He must’ve already helped her to the organ, because the first notes of a hymn began to resound throughout the church.

“If it wouldn’t inconvenience you,” Teito said quickly, hoping to finish the conversation before Castor appeared and turned it into an inquisition, “I thought I might visit Bishop Hakuren. I understand the hospital is doing well since he’s taken over running it.”

“Castor is pleased with what he’s done there,” Labrador said. “I’m sure he will be very glad to see you.”

“You don’t mind? If it’s a bad time…”

“It’s a wonderful idea. You’ve hardly left the church since you began your training.”

“In that case, I’ll send him a message after the service,” Teito said.

“Send whom a message?” Castor said, coming into the vestry. “Mass is starting.”

“Hakuren,” Labrador said. “Teito is going to take a few days off to see him.”

“Have you told him yet?” Castor asked.

Teito shook his head. “I didn’t know what to say.”

Labrador put a hand on his shoulder. “Perhaps it’s best said in person.”


	3. Chapter 3

The journey into the mountains took a full day by bus and foot, but Mikage flew the distance in two hours. Teito had written Hakuren after mass and received an immediate response. He and Mikage left after the evening service. The air grew colder as the elevation climbed, and by the time they were miles away from the hospital, Teito had buried his hands in Mikage’s fur to keep from shivering.

Hakuren met them at the front door after sundown. Anyone who looked at him would instantly know his family name. The years had eroded the softness of childhood from his face, but Hakuren had grown into a beautiful man whose looks tempted every heart in the empire. He still wore his hair long, tossed over one shoulder and beginning to turn silver. He threw his arms around Teito and squeezed.

“I can’t believe how tall you’ve gotten! I thought Bishop Castor was exaggerating in his letter this morning. Is that bag all you brought?”

“Yes.” Teito’s mouth felt as dry as the land scarred by the war almost thirty years before. Something about the altitude Mikage preferred to fly at. He removed his goggles. “Are you staying, Mikage, or should I call for you when I’m ready to go home?”

Mikage flopped belly-down on the mountainside and dropped his head onto his front legs.

“Staying,” Teito said. “Understood.”

Mikage grunted.

“To think he used to sit on my head only a few years ago,” Hakuren said, guiding Teito inside.

“His growth spurt was sudden.”

“I’d hoped Bishop Castor might come with you, but I’m sure he’s busy.”

“He promised to come next time.”

The hospital was quiet; the residents were probably asleep given the hour. It didn’t look or smell much like Teito thought a hospital should. A fire crackled in a wide hearth below two tall windows that let in the night sky. The air carried the sweet scent of flowers and mountain air.

Hakuren talked in a hushed voice as they passed what Teito presumed were patient rooms. “I had the nuns save food for you. I wasn’t sure if you would’ve had dinner or not. Your room is ready. You probably want to sleep after your trip, but we can catch up in the morning. You can help me with rounds.”

Teito nodded. “What time should I get up?”

“Join me whenever you wake.” Hakuren unlocked a door at the end of the hallway and led them into a narrower passageway. “This is where the staff lives. My room is the last one there, and this is yours.”

The room was large enough for a single bed pallet and a small table, on which there was a wash basin, a tray of sandwiches, and a pitcher of milk. Teito set his traveling bag on the chair.

“Would you like me to sit with you while you eat?” Hakuren asked, stifling a yawn.

“You should sleep, your excellency” Teito said. “I’ll eat quickly and go to bed myself.”

Hakuren had already closed the door behind him and sat down on the foot of the bed. “I was surprised when you asked to visit. I’m delighted to have someone trained by Bishop Labrador to help us for a few weeks.”

“I’m sorry I haven’t come before.”

“Please eat,” Hakuren said, but Teito shook his head.

“Did Bishop Castor say anything else to you in his letter?”

Hakuren leaned back on his hands. “He said you have something to tell me, but he didn’t go into detail.”

Teito swallowed. “A few weeks ago, I dreamt that I went to the Land of Seele. I made a deal with the Overseer that he would restore my memories from my past life if I woke up and asked him to.”

He looked at Hakuren, watching for a reaction. Hakuren had gone very still.

“That...” Hakuren began. He blinked several times and wet his lips. “That must have been...”

“I wanted to thank you,” Teito said, kneeling to take his hands. “For everything you did for me before, Hakuren. I’m sorry I had to leave you.”

Hakuren’s eyes went a little glassy. He looked back and forth between Teito’s eyes and a look of wonderment came over his face. “Teito?” he said, as if he didn’t quite believe it.

Teito smiled. “I promised I’d come back.”

Hakuren gasped and leaned down to embrace him. “I’ve selfishly prayed for this. It wasn’t fair you had to give up your life after everything you’d endured.”

“I was happy to do it.”

“I know you were. Your selflessness has been an inspiration to me.” Hakuren held him tightly. “It’s so wonderful to see you.”

“You’ll see more of me now. I promise.” Teito gave Hakuren a squeeze and wiped his eyes. “How do you look good, even with a red face?”

Hakuren laughed. It was strange to think they’d been nearly the same age once, or that there had been a time they’d disliked one another. They talked for an hour of trivial things, reminiscing about their time in training together, and Teito told him all about the pilgrimage he’d taken with Frau. Eventually, Hakuren began to yawn between words and was unable to keep his eyes open.

“I’m sorry,” he said, flinching awake. “I can’t stay up all night like I once could.”

“I’ll find you in the morning,” Teito said.

Hakuren hugged him once more, and kissing Teito on the forehead, left the room.

Teito stripped off his outer robes and laid them across the foot of the bed. He said his thanks for the food and ate quietly. The sandwiches were simple: butter and cheese, probably gifts given in exchange for the hospital’s services. It would be rare to have fish this far above the ocean. The bread had gone stale from sitting out, the cheese gummy. He ate half, washing them down with warm milk, and prepared for bed.

He had just closed his eyes, grateful for the tug of sleep, when he caught a whiff of tobacco and pried them open again. Frau was sitting on the end of the bed with his back against the wall. He rested his right arm on top of his knee and tapped ash onto the floor, then put the cigarette to his lips and inhaled. The tip glowed red in the dark room.

“That was a touching reunion.”

“You can’t smoke that in here!” Teito hissed, sitting up. “This is a hospital.”

“It’s contained.”

“Well, I don’t want to breathe it.”

Frau sighed and cracked open the window, using his hand to waft the smoke outside. “I saw your dragon sulking out front.”

“How did you know where I was?”

“I followed the scent of milk.”

“That insult only worked when I was shorter.”

“You know I can find you by your soul number? But in this case, Castor told me where you were.” Frau took a drag off his cigarette. “I would’ve traveled with you if you’d told me where you were headed.”

“I’m not a kid.”

“I like the air up here,” Frau said mildly. “Reminds me of the _Aegis_.”

Teito felt foolish for assuming. “Do you miss that?”

Frau gave a half-hearted shrug and exhaled toward the window. “I used to. Made me feel good.”

“Because you helped people?”

“Yeah. And I had access to a lot of interesting material from around the empire.” He gave a scandalous wink. Teito scoffed, turning onto his side, and hid his face beneath the covers.

“I can’t believe you passed the bishop examination.”

“They couldn’t say no to my zaiphon.”

“How did that work, anyway? You died when you were still a kid, so you were a Ghost when you went through the training, weren’t you?”

“Yeah. We all were.”

“How come you grew so much?” Teito said. “The others didn’t.”

“It’s not my place to question God if he wanted me to have this body.”

Teito groaned.

“The others have grown too,” Frau said. “Just not as much. Lab used to be your height.”

Teito unburied his face. “How did you find each other?” he asked and Frau raised an eyebrow.

“What’s with the questions today?”

“I want to know things about you.”

Frau looked at him for a few seconds and sighed. “We could sense each other when we wanted to. I don’t know how to explain it. With what had happened between the empires, it made the most sense for us to stay neutral. Living in District 7 guaranteed that, and becoming bishops gave us the freedom to travel where we needed to.”

“But it ended up suiting you.”

“Didn’t have much of a future before that. Would’ve been a Sky Pirate until the job killed me.”

“Labrador thinks I should be pope.”

“You have the constitution for it, though I was hoping I might get to see you with a house full of brats.”

“If I had a wife, she’d find you staring at her in the night and run out.”

“You still owe me from that race,” Frau said, poking him. “I could’ve gotten lucky a few times if it hadn’t been for you.”

Teito smiled and closed his eyes again. “Are you staying?”

“Thought I’d stick around for the sunrise. Do you want your usual?”

“Sing something different today.”

“I’ve pretty much exhausted my catalog.”

“Make something up. I like listening to your voice.”

Frau settled his hand over Teito’s ankle. “I’ll say this about you, Teito Klein. I can’t knock your taste.”

* * *

The room was empty come morning.

Frau no longer required sleep, but twice, Teito had woken first and found Frau on his bed, chin dipped toward his chest and his eyes closed. Not needing to sleep wasn’t the same as being _unable_ to sleep, just as Frau could draw breath and eat although his body was sustained without air or food. In his current form, he was less human than he had ever been in their acquaintance and sometimes that realization made Teito uneasy.

Not that there was anything particularly godlike about Frau. New powers aside, he was the same brute he’d been seventeen years ago when Teito had crashed in the desert outside of District 7. Teito had amassed a small, unfortunate stack of pornography under his bed and reluctantly swept up ash from his tobacco every morning, but he was as likely to catch Frau squinting at a book or studying something outside of the window. Frau was remarkably studious when he thought no one was watching.

Gauging by the position of the sun in the sky, it was much later than Teito had planned on getting up. If he were in District 7, both of the morning masses would have ended by now. The world moved outside, and through the walls Teito could hear the quiet sounds of patients bustling around their rooms. Hakuren was doubtlessly awake by now and Teito wanted to join him as soon as possible.

He dressed in yesterday’s robes, sure to be soiled by hospital work, and hoped there was still food left from breakfast. He left the staff residence and wandered through the main hospital. A nurse with ruddy cheeks offered him steamed rolls and strong tea. Hakuren had already completed his rounds, but she said he could be found outside. He often walked the mountainside this time of day.

Mikage was underneath the same tree where Teito had left him. Someone had brought him a bowl of dark greens, which he was eating when Teito went out to him. He stroked Mikage’s nose for a few minutes, combing his fur back into place.

“You need a bath when we get home. You smell like the wind.”

Mikage grunted something rude-sounding in Fyulong and continued eating.

“Did Hakuren come this way?”

Another grunt.

“Have you seen Frau?”

Mikage bobbed his head and jerked it slightly toward the denser forest.

“I’ll be out later to bring you lunch,” Teito said and headed toward a break in the trees.

* * *

Teito found Hakuren and Frau laughing together a half-mile walk from the hospital. Hakuren had a yellow flower tucked behind one ear, and in Frau’s arms was a bundle of herbs that Hakuren had undoubtedly forced him to carry. From the way he occasionally smiled at Frau, Teito knew he still harbored his childhood idolization. Had Hakuren and Frau kept in touch all these years? That made him frown, although he couldn’t say why, exactly. Frau looked up as he approached.

“He lives,” Frau said.

“Teito! Good morning,” Hakuren called.

“You should’ve woken me,” Teito said. He bent to gather the leggy flower stalks, cutting them near the ground with a pocket knife.

“Frau agreed to help so you could sleep longer.”

“I didn’t realize you can see him,” Teito said.

“I’m around death all the time,” Hakuren said. “I’d be surprised if I _couldn’t_ see him.”

“I thought you were going to sleep all day,” Frau said, tickling Teito’s ear with a flower stem. Teito swatted it away.

“I thought you left.”

“Watching you drool is only interesting for so long.”

“I do _not drool._ ”

“Your pillow says otherwise.”

“Stop watching me while I’m sleeping!”

“It’s reassuring to see your relationship hasn’t changed,” Hakuren said.

“It’s my punishment for being so good-looking,” Frau said. “Of all the souls in the universe, mine decides to latch onto his. Kid hardly comes up to my chin.”

“I’m royalty,” Teito said, pointing the knife at him. “You should be flattered.”

“At this point, I’m not sure if you’re joking or not,” Hakuren said. “I’m glad you’re here, Teito. I don’t know if Castor has told you, but I’m hoping to open a second hospital like this one. We’re in the process of applying for grants.”

“A second hospital? Where?”

“In District 5. There’s lingering trauma from the war the farther you get from the cities, and many people who were liberated from slavery across the empire still need a place to work and to live. It’s going to take decades to heal what’s been done, but a hospital would provide badly needed jobs. Too many are dying on the street. After what you told me last night, I thought you might be interested in a position there.”

“In District 5?” Teito said.

“In the former Raggs capital, if we can secure the land.”

“What kind of position?”

Frau smirked at Hakuren. “Told you. All you have to do is say the word ‘Raggs’ and the kid’s heart speeds up.”

Hakuren stood and stretched his back. “I think we’ve picked enough for today. Let me show you the plans.”

They went inside to Hakuren’s office, a small but tidy room located toward the front of the hospital. Hakuren told Teito to take the chair; Frau loomed in the doorway. Hakuren moved a stack of papers aside and unrolled an architectural rendering onto his desk, which was a humble piece of wood with no decoration, positioned beneath the room’s only window.

The hospital would have three wings surrounding a central courtyard, providing the patients with fresh air and privacy.

“The land we’re considering sits in a former residential zone,” Hakuren said. “We’ll have to convince the district planning board to allow a hospital there.”

“Why don’t you build closer to the city?” Frau said.

“We’ve considered that,” Hakuren said, “but we’d never be able to provide this level of peace and quiet if it were centrally located. Wherever we build, I want it to be our permanent location.”

“This area used to be beautiful,” Teito said, drawing his finger across the plans. “It was covered in flowers. My uncle used to take me there.”

“I’m submitting our grant proposal next week,” Hakuren said. “Shall I hold the job for you?”

* * *

“You’re really going to lock yourself away in a hospital?”

It had been two hours since the conversation in the forest. A batch of burn ointment was simmering in the hospital kitchen, and Teito had gone to sit with Mikage for a while before he dispensed it into containers. Frau was stretched on the ground beside him, ignoring the Kor that flapped around him with increasing frenzy. Teito ducked to avoid a bony wing that flew uncomfortably close to his eyes.

“Don’t you have a job to do?” he said.

“The souls are fine. Worst case scenario, they wait a few minutes before heading back down.” Frau flicked a Kor that was attempting to land on his shoulder. “These guys are pretty helpful when it comes to guiding people. It’s too bad they can’t read the book.”

Teito looked at him narrowly. “You’d pawn your job off on them.”

“Only the boring parts. And it’s not pawning; it’s _delegating_. Your dad was a king. You think he did everything by himself? It’s the same with me.”

Teito stared at him.

“Alright,” Frau said, “I _could_ work harder and probably wouldn’t need their help, but if I did that, I’d have no time for myself. Pretty sure I’d end up miserable. I think that’s why Verloren went bad the first time around.”

“Responsibility?”

“He was lonely. If you think about it that way, you can almost understand the things he did.”

Teito took a long breath of mountain air. “I felt bad for him even though he killed my father. When you and I were separated and I couldn’t remember much of who I was, Ayanami was so kind to me. I know it’s because I had possession of his body, but I can’t stop thinking about it. There was one afternoon I fell asleep on the job and woke up in his personal office. He’d laid his jacket over me.”

“Most people aren’t good or bad—even Verloren. They’re just people. Look at Hakuren. What would he be like if he hadn’t joined the church?”

“Probably like Shuri.”

“And I’d be dead or locked up.” Frau took a drag on his cigarette. “How long are you staying up here?”

“A few weeks.”

Frau studied his face. “You look like something’s eating away at you.”

“I keep thinking…” Teito picked a twig from Mikage’s fur. “I had a choice before. I didn’t have to kill all of those people.”

“Teito, what happened to you was not your fault. Even if you’d let the army kill you, they would’ve trained someone else in your place.”

“Have you ever killed anyone?” Teito asked, not looking up.

Frau didn’t answer right away. He scratched his head. “Maybe you ought to be talking to someone more qualified than me.”

“I don’t feel comfortable with anyone but you.”

“Teito...” Frau spoke gently. “No one thinks any less of you because of what you had to do to survive.”

“You couldn’t _baptize_ me. That’s how damaged my soul was.”

Getting to his knees, Frau gripped him by both shoulders. “You listen to me. Your soul’s the most glorious thing I’ve ever seen. Castor and Lab would say the same. Hakuren, Mikage, your mom and uncle, they love you. Everyone _loves_ you.”

Teito pushed him away. “I’m not thinking of leaving again, if that’s what you’re worried about.”

“I’ve worried about it from the moment you got those memories back. I’d rather you never knew me than that.”

“Please don’t say that,” Teito said, dropping his chin.

Frau gathered him in a rare hug. “If you want to be involved with this hospital because it’s what you really want, I’ll never say another word, but if you’re doing penance for your past life, you and Mikage need to fly somewhere else right now. You don’t owe this world anything, you hear me? Not a damned thing. You already gave it your life.”

Teito cried in his arms. He held onto him for so long, Frau was warm to the touch when they parted.

* * *

For the remainder of two weeks, he spent every morning accompanying Hakuren on his rounds, and his afternoons in the kitchen preparing pain medication and anti-inflammatory tonics. In the evenings, off-duty staff gathered around a fire pit dug a safe distance from the hospital to swap stories and gifts sent from the district centers. Although he’d initially felt awkward joining them, on Teito’s last night, he led the prayer before the fire was drenched and left to smolder. Hakuren walked beside him after the others had gone inside. The sun had set, and like it had his first night here, the air had grown cold with the loss of sunlight.

“You could leave in the morning,” Hakuren said.

“I promised Mikage we’d head back tonight. I think he’s cold sleeping outside.”

Hakuren’s smile was lovely in the moonlight. “That’s because you’ve spoiled him. I would’ve done the same. You’ll let me know about the hospital?”

“I promise to think about it.”

“You should visit the site,” Hakuren said and then hugged him tightly. “Get going before it gets any darker, or I’ll worry.”

“I’ll stay in touch,” Teito said against Hakuren’s shoulder. “I’ll write you know when I’ve made a decision.”

“You’re welcome here any time. You never need to ask. And you can write me about more than the hospital.”

“I will.” Teito stepped back. “Hakuren, I couldn’t say it before, but I want you to know I consider you a friend. I hope you’ll be mine.”

Hakuren put his hands on his hips and proudly raised his sharp chin. “I’ve always been your friend, Teito Klein. Especially when you couldn’t say it.”


	4. Chapter 4

Teito had known Capella since childhood. He’d been like an older brother who came to visit Teito regularly until the years he went away to study law at Barsburg University and then worked to secure reparations for those who had been used by the slave trade. He had single-handedly put a stop to the majority of the illegal trafficking that had continued years after the laws changed, by legislating that all ships were subject to random searches at boundary points. It had made him numerous enemies, but Capella was level-headed, and the scant times he had been physically threatened he had never manifested his attack zaiphon.

Teito wrote to tell Capella about his memories and flew out to meet him three weeks after he’d returned home from the mountains. Once he’d appropriately fussed over Mikage, Capella showed Teito into his home. He lived in an up-and-coming ward in the farthest outskirts of District 5, one of the latest to undergo redevelopment and most heavily hit by the war thirty years ago. Half of the block was still in ruins, but it was being rebuilt brick by brick, with plans for a central market and plaza to be constructed by year’s end. Capella’s home was surprisingly modest for a lawyer’s, only two rooms and a pocket-sized yard, but he worked largely in trade and often refused payment for his legal services.

“It’s good to finally be able to thank you for what you did for me,” Capella said, settling at a well-loved wooden table worn smooth where his elbows touched. He motioned for Teito to sit across from him.. “For me and for my mother. You changed our lives.”

“I’m sure anyone else would have done the same.”

“You’re either too naive to know that’s a lie, which I have a hard time believing, or you really are as honorable as anyone I’ve ever met. Oh—would you like anything to drink?”

“Water, please,” Teito said. He watched Capella take down a cup and pour water from a ceramic pitcher, raising it a few inches above the cup so the water streamed down like a fountain.

“I worked as a waiter for a few years to pay for my education,” Capella said, noting the way Teito was watching him. “Those Barsburg officers like their formalities.”

“Yes. Mikage and I went through their begleiter academy. He had an advantage because his family serves as stewards to the Oaks, but I was hopeless at most of it.”

Capella laughed. “You have other talents.”

Teito smiled into his glass.“I’m sorry I haven’t been to visit lately.”

“You put your studies first. That’s good.”

The water in District 5 tasted strongly of chemicals. Teito took a few sips out of necessity and set down his glass. “Do you know much about zoning?” he asked.

Capella blinked a few times at the question. “Some. Why do you ask?”

“Bishop Hakuren wants to open a hospital in the fifth district.”

“Ah.” He smiled. “I’ve seen the plans. Unfortunately, where he wants to build is an area of interest to developers. I’m afraid there’s little chance they’ll be able to acquire the land unless they have considerable private funding.”

“What about appealing to the Empress?”

“Not in this case. The district has jurisdiction.” Capella smiled at him warmly. “Don’t worry. He’ll find another place to build. There’s plenty of space here.”

“He asked me to work there.”

Capella looked thoughtful. “You don’t look convinced.”

“I’m afraid it will be painful,” Teito admitted, hanging his head. “To see what Raggs has become.” 

“There have been a lot of changes here since you were little. Why don’t we continue talking outside?”

* * *

It was a hot day. The heat seemed to gather in the space between buildings. Teito wished he’d worn lighter robes. He touched a handkerchief to his forehead to keep the sweat from his eyes.

As they walked through the neighborhood around Capella’s home, he was struck by the number of eyes that followed him. Some people whispered and stared; others looked like they’d seen a specter. Even children seemed fascinated by him. They pointed shamelessly until their parents lowered their hands.

“It’s common to see images of your father in this ward,” Capella said quietly, so onlookers couldn’t hear. “I don’t know if you realize how much you resemble him.”

Teito supposed he must look a great deal like his father when dressed in bishop’s robes, which were similar to a king’s robes in length and fullness. If he’d been dressed as a commoner, people might have ignored him as he walked by. He thought of his last visit home, his mother’s startled “Oh!” and the way she’d covered her mouth for a moment when he’d bent to remove his shoes.

Teito’s memories of his father were faint. He’d only ever seen a few likenesses of him, photographs his mother had kept among her possessions. The church had maintained records, but much had been lost following the Pope’s betrayal. What little he’d seen had given Teito the impression that Krom had been an honorable man and a kind leader.

The people hadn’t forgotten Krom’s face, though it had been twenty-seven years since his murder. Had he survived the war, he’d still be ruling well into his fifties, and his image would likely cause controversy. As benevolent as his intentions had been, enemies were a certainty, especially in his own country. But dead, Krom had become a symbol for the people of Raggs, a reminder of their devastation, of their resilience.

Teito graciously ignored the stares.

The buildings on either sides of the street, two-story houses covered in tan stucco like Capella’s house, looked brand new.

“This area had burned down,” Capella said. “There was a manufacturing plant on this spot and the groundwater was tainted when it exploded. We were able to secure funding for a water treatment plant two years ago, so it’s beginning to develop.”

“That’s why it went unchanged for so long.”

“It’s driven up the land values, though. It’s almost impossible for someone from the working class to afford to live this close to the capital. We were lucky to buy up as much property as we did.”

More people had come out of their homes and were watching as Teito and Capella passed by. A child, not much older than Capella had been when they’d met, clung to his mother’s legs. He had reddish hair and no shoes; his feet were dusty from playing in the street, and he had a happy, freckled face. He had never known a day in chains.

Teito knelt down to speak to him.

“Hello,” he said in the common language of the empire. “What’s your name?”

The boy shuffled his feet. His eyes were wide and dark. “Kio,” he said with a thick Raggs accent. “My mother named me after a star.”

Grinning, Teito reverted to the language of his childhood. It slipped from his tongue like water. “That’s a lucky name. I’m Teito.”

The boy’s face brightened.

“Teito is a bishop from the seventh district,” Capella explained. “His father’s family was from Raggs.”

“Won’t you come back?” Kio asked.

“Back?” Teito said.

“Teito is needed at the church,” Capella said. “But I’ll try to persuade him to visit.”

“It’s good they’ve taught you the language,” a woman behind Kio said, presumably his mother. “So many of our children can’t speak it.”

“Yes,” Teito said before his throat closed. He put a hand to it and swallowed, feeling a sting in his eyes. He took a breath to regain his composure. “There are a number of Raggs’ books and documents in the Barsburg Church’s library. If you visit District 7, I hope you’ll come see it.”

“I want to see the castle!” said Kio.

“Raggs Castle?” Teito said and the boy nodded.

“Have you been there?” Kio asked.

Teito couldn’t say he’d grown up there, but he supposed it wasn’t impossible for a bishop to have visited. “I have. I hope you’re able to as well. Be good for your mother.”

He waved goodbye to Kio and stood up.

“There’s a movement to restore the castle,” Capella said as an aside, patting Kio on the head and moving Teito past the crowd.

“Oh? Why?”

“As a cultural landmark, if nothing else.”

“It was destroyed when I was last there and that was years ago.”

“There have been cleanup efforts since then. No one expects a miracle. It’s been ransacked—Barsburg took most anything of value—and there was a huge amount of water damage, but it hasn’t been heavily vandalized.”

“No?” Teito said.

Capella shook his head. “I’d like to think it’s out of respect, but it’s probably because the harsh winters and distance from the nearest city. It’s nearly impossible to reach during half of the year. Turn this way.”

They walked past city limits, down the remains of a road that cut through swaying farm fields. Houses became scattered, no longer pressed up against each other but spaced farther and farther apart.

“This section was cleared a few years ago,” Capella said. “There was concern that the soil was contaminated—no one built much out here as a result—but we had it tested and levels are safe. That’s why there’s so much construction lately.”

Beyond the farmland was a cluster of crumbling stone buildings. Teito stopped next to the one nearest the road. Its roof was long gone and the three remaining walls looked like broken staircases. Weeds grew as high as Teito along the foundation. In the distance, the sun broke through the skeleton of a fallen airship.

“The Barsburg army used to use this area for target practice,” Capella said. “It’s one of the last villages from before the war that’s still standing. This is the lot Bishop Hakuren is interested in acquiring, but this entire block is expected to be bought and subdivided by year’s end.”

The tall weeds bent in the wind, as though they were bowing.

“It would be a shame for this to look like District 1,” Teito said. “I don’t suppose they’re required to use Raggs’ architectural styles.”

“Unlikely.”

“Another century like this and there won’t be anything of Raggs left, only what exists in books.”

“You could change that,” Capella said.

“How?”

“The Pope has the authority to reestablish the Raggs kingdom. Two members of the royal family are still alive. You’re the son of the king.”

“The _reincarnated_ son,” Teito said. “The king was dead long before I existed.”

“Genetic testing would confirm it, and there are plenty of people in high positions who would testify to your lineage,” Capella said. “And you’re indisputably Barsburg royalty.”

Teito imagined the warm resonance of castle bells that had been silent for decades. He held his breath for a few moments to calm his heart. “Even so, we have no land.”

“It would require convincing the Empress to cede a district or one of the outlying islands. An island is more likely. There are fewer resources to give up.”

“An island?”

“There are several uninhabited, one quite recently. You might be able to salvage some of the infrastructure.”

“You’re serious,” Teito said.

Capella nodded.

He led them back through town and onto a side street lined with merchandise and food stalls, many of them decorated in green and gold striped awnings or bearing the crest of Raggs. The food, the wares they were selling—Teito recognized them from his first childhood: root vegetables cut on a spiral and fried golden with spices; robes reminiscent of a king’s but made of practical cloth for everyday wear; books with covers and spines embossed with the rounded characters of Raggs’ script. One in particular caught his eye, a book of fairy tales.

“My uncle used to read these stories to me.” He ghosted his hand over the cover, almost afraid to touch it, as if to touch would cause the book to vanish. “We had to leave the book behind.”

“We’ve just begun publishing,” said a woman behind the counter, as old as his mother with intense green eyes. She spoke in the common language, though her words bore traces of an accent. “It’s our hope to reprint all of the classics.”

Teito swallowed his excitement. “How much?” he asked, already reaching for his coin purse. The answer didn’t matter. To touch that book again, he’d pay whatever she asked.

“There’s a discount for clergy.”

“I’ll pay full price.”

She scowled in confusion at first, probably wondering what kind of person would refuse a discount; but the longer she looked at him, her eyes began to glisten, and when she blinked, the motion eased a tear down her face. He passed her the necessary coins and waited while she wrapped the book in thin paper.

He held the book beneath his arm as they walked away. “Thank you for bringing me here.”

Capella smiled. “I know the work you’re doing with the church is important, Teito, but you could do so much for the people of this district.”

They walked a while longer and stopped before an unmarked set of doors on a tall building that rose like a church among its two-story surroundings. Capella took out a passkey. His face slid into a thoughtful expression.

“I want to show you something. This is a work-in-progress. I know it doesn’t look like much now, but I think we can really make something of it in a few years.” He unlocked the door and switched on a light. “This was a nobleman’s house. He left it for this purpose in his will. He’d been hospitalized since the war.”

They stood in a grand foyer. The floor was polished dark stone similar to the type that had been prized in Barsburg. The walls were trimmed with hand-cut moulding, and in the ceiling was a tarnished brass medallion where there had once been a chandelier. The foyer opened into an expansive room, its contents hidden in the dark. Two other rooms branched off to the the left and right like wings. Rather than an entry table or bench to sit and remove his shoes, Teito saw a reception desk and a sign suspended above it.

“Raggs Cultural Center,” Teito read and his heart leapt. “A museum?”

“In part. It will also offer instruction in the language, the arts, the music. Speaking of arts… this is why I brought you.” Capella pointed to the room off of their left. “I think you’ll like this installation particularly.”

He flipped another switch and Teito’s breath caught. On a partition, beneath a framed portrait of his father, were four words stenciled in large black letters: _Weldeschtein Krom Raggs Gallery_.

“Several pieces by Raggs’ artists survived in private collections,” Capella said. “We only have a few right now, but we’re negotiating loans.”

Teito touched the edge of the picture frame. “When will it open to the public?”

“In a few months, if the permits come through.”

“I want to be here.”

“I’d hoped you’d say that. Come and see the paintings.”

There were three belonging to his father. They weren’t as skilled or as beautiful as a master’s work, but Teito gazed upon the sun-drenched fields, the jewel-like reflection of light on the water, the lone towers in the distance, and he could almost feel the wash of breeze over his face, the warmth of the sun.

“I understand you’ve become quite an artist yourself,” Capella said.

“It was a pastime,” Teito murmured. “When I was growing up. I haven’t painted since I joined the church.”

“If you should take it up again, your work has a place here.”

“Show me the rest.”

The largest room, in the museum’s center, contained artifacts salvaged from Raggs Castle, most of them practical items, each labeled in neat script with the Barsburg translation underneath. He stopped in front of a chipped piece of hawkzile bone china.

“I probably ate off of this plate,” Teito said.

“We have many of your things. We’d like to have a display about you.”

Teito’s eye caught on a toddler’s fork. “Will you mention my death?”

“And your rebirth, if you aren’t opposed.”

“Aren’t you concerned it will undermine your credibility?”

Capella laughed. “I don’t think anyone in the district will doubt the story when they see you. If anything, the story will increase visitors.”

Teito supposed that was true. “Why are you doing this? Your family isn’t from Raggs.”

“I wanted to find a way to honor you.” He patted Teito’s shoulder. “Come. I’ll show you the language laboratory and then we can have dinner.”

“Language laboratory?”

“The number of native speakers has been decreasing every year since the war. Now that you remember the language, I’ll beg you to give us a few hours of your time recording your voice.”

“I’m afraid I have quite an accent.”

“There’s no one left without one.”

It was a grim thought. “Have you asked Frau?”

Capella frowned. “Frau? I was told that he’d…at the same time you...”

There was no harm in speaking about it anymore. Teito told Capella about Zehel.

“I see,” Capella said. They were sitting in the language laboratory and the sun had almost set. He rubbed his temples. “Has he changed?”

“He looks the same.”

“I remember him being massive and intimidating, but he’s nurturing by nature, isn’t he? You were like my parents for a while.”

Teito smiled at the memory. “He’s a good person.”

“He cared about you very much. I’m delighted that you can still see him.”

There was no way to hide the blush that crept across his neck and face. Teito shifted in his chair. “He remembers a lot of Raggs music. I’m sure he’ll record it if you ask.”

“You can be my ambassador,” Capella laughed. “But I would like to see him again. Shall we get going? Since we only have two days to explore, there’s a new restaurant nearby I’d hoped to take you to.”


	5. Chapter 5

Teito reluctantly flew home to District 7 the following night, but the short visit to Capella’s had left him confused. He’d never imagined a future for himself outside of the District 7 church, but now that he’d stood in front of that ruined place, he spent the flight imagining daily walks in the countryside, going into town, working with children like Kio. Speaking in his native tongue. Mikage would like the space, and Frau...

Teito’s first day back at the church, he completed his chores just as Castor was settling down to read to children beside the fountain. Lazette had come above water, resting her head on her arms, and gazed adoringly at him. Teito had always seen her as a child due to her small stature and youthful appearance, but now that he remembered she was as old as Castor if not older, and that she’d once been willing to sacrifice herself to spare Castor’s life, Teito felt more tenderly toward her than he ever had. It shed new light on the way she’d always looked at Castor, and on the gentle way he helped her into the church on days she would play the organ.

“Archbishop?” Teito asked when Castor had finished reading. The children had gone; Lazette had slipped beneath the water and they were alone.

“Yes?”

“How did you know this church is where you wanted to spend your life?”

Castor’s expression became thoughtful. He tilted his head back and gazed at the clouds. “It wasn’t so much deciding what I wanted as realizing what I couldn’t do without.”

“You don’t think of going somewhere else?”

“I’ve thought about it. Why are you asking? Have you changed your mind about your vocation?”

“No,” Teito said quickly.

Castor ruffled his hair. “I’m not surprised you’re thinking about this. Did you have a nice visit with Capella?”

“People stared.”

Castor hid his laughter behind his prosthetic hand. “I’m not surprised by that either.”

“I was thinking,” Teito continued, “it would be nice to live in that district again.”

“It’s natural to want to return home. It must’ve been comforting to be back.”

_Home_. Teito dipped his fingers into the water. “Yes.”

“Whatever decision you’re thinking of making,” Castor said, “take the time to consider it. There’s no rush. Have you thought of what you’ll do once you finish your apprenticeship?”

“I had planned to stay here.”

“You would’ve been eligible for your crown on your next birthday, if Raggs were independent. Would you have wanted it?”

“I’d be able to help more people as a king then as a bishop, but I think I would lose something, being in a position like that.”

“How do you mean?”

“I’d always be at a distance. My parents weren’t allowed to marry because my dad was king. There’s a separation between royalty and commoners.”

“If you were the king, don’t you think you could change that?”

“A king belongs to his people. His life doesn’t belong to him.”

“I suppose you experienced enough of that before,” Castor sighed and gave him a fond look. “There is room for growth here, if that’s what you’re looking for, but I can picture you as an king.”

Teito was flattered but hardly convinced. “Even if the the Pope reinstated the kingdom tomorrow, it would be lucky if the kingdom were stable within my lifetime.”

“No one would expect it to be.”

“How many of us do you think there are out there?”

“More than you think. I also think you’re suited for the challenge, but be careful not to take too much on by yourself. There are people who will share your burden.”

The wind changed direction, scattering leaves across the courtyard.

“Why did you choose to take the bishop examination?” Castor asked.

“Which time?” Teito grinned and let it fall from his face. “I wanted to be like my uncle and Hakuren.”

“You know it’s all right to be selfish sometimes?”

“I can be selfish. I brought a Fyulong with me, after all.”

“As if we would have asked you to leave him behind.”

“He would have followed me,” Teito said. “Why does my intention matter? It isn’t as though my reason last time had anything to do with me.”

“Back then, we would have done anything to keep you from leaving the district. But if there’s something else you want to do with this life, Teito, this is _your life_.”

“What about you?”

“I never expected to have a second chance,” Castor said. “To have a heartbeat again, to be able to see my family. I wouldn’t choose anything else.”

Teito’s fingers had grown numb from the cool fountain water. He dried them on his robes. “Did you know Lazette in another life?”

Castor pursed his lips at the question. “I suppose it’s possible.”

“What happens to her after you die?”

“There are souls that find each other again and again throughout their rebirths, the way yours and Mikage’s did. I would hope we are similarly blessed.”

“But if coming back means forgetting her, what then?”

“We have the option to remain in Heaven if we’ve been granted access, but I would never deny her a new life.”

“But you _could_ stay,” Teito said. “If you wanted?”

Castor’s eyes opened a little wider. He wet his lips before replying. “If that were my desire, yes.”

* * *

“No tattoo yet?”

Frau’s voice came from the window, startling Teito, who had one arm out of his undershirt as he changed for bed. He pulled it the rest of the way off and pitched it at Frau.

“Can’t you knock?”

Frau balled up the shirt and tossed it back. Teito put it into the hamper and flopped face-down on the bed.

“You’re gonna sleep like that?” Frau asked.

“It gets hot in here.”

Frau sat on the bed and whacked Teito’s bare feet. “I talked with Castor.”

Teito buried his face in his pillow and wondered if it was possible to breathe that way long enough for Frau to tire of him and leave.

“Hey,” Frau said. “Don’t give up your life here on a whim.”

“I never said I was giving anything up,” Teito said into his arms. “I can’t believe Castor broke my confidence.”

“How do you know I wasn’t eavesdropping?”

Teito cast him a sharp look over his shoulder. Frau had his arms crossed and was glaring at him. Moonlight caught the edges of his hair.

“Fine, Castor told me. The courtyard isn’t a confessional. He said something to me because he’s worried about you.”

“Why?”

“Why? He thinks you want to die and wait for Mikage to join you in Heaven. If your mom or uncle started talking like that, wouldn’t you be worried?”

“I didn’t—that’s not what I said!”

“You know how Castor worries. Anyway, he asked me to come talk to you.”

“He knows we see each other?”

“Yeah, he knows. They both know. They might not be Ghosts anymore, but I don’t keep things from them. ” Frau sighed and rubbed his forehead. “Teito…are you...okay?”

“I don’t want to die,” Teito said. “I was just asking a question.”

“But you’re thinking about leaving the church?”

Teito scowled so hard it gave him a headache. Frau took a breath he didn’t need and let it out in a huff. His hands were fisted on his knees, and Teito thought he looked the slightest bit uncertain.

“Are you unhappy here?” Frau said.

“No.”

“Then what is it?”

Teito rolled onto his side. “I’ve wanted to come to this church since I can remember. This is the first time I’ve ever imagined myself somewhere else. ”

“Does this have to do with your trip home?”

“It was good to see Capella again. He’s doing so well. It’s strange to be younger than him. We took a walk through the area where he lives. Everyone was staring at me.”

“You do look a lot like your old man. You probably gave ‘em hope.”

Outside, the clock tower was tolling midnight. “Capella said they’re trying to restore the castle.”

“Oh yeah? Think your uncle would want the crown?”

Teito shook his head. “I asked him about that once. He’s said he never did. He had no interest in politics. That’s why he joined the church.”

“That leaves you,” Frau said.

“Where are your Kor today?”

“Eh, I told ‘em to leave me alone for an hour if they wanted me to work tomorrow.”

“Sounds like they’re in charge.”

“Blame the guy upstairs. Or rather the guy who _was_ upstairs.”

Teito propped his chin on his fist. “He’s not there anymore?”

“He retired about the time you were born. I think he wanted to spend some time with his daughter. Make up for what they lost.”

“Like you and me?”

Frau shrugged stiffly and lit a cigarette. “Yeah, I guess so.”

“If I left here, would you follow me?”

“To District 5? Afraid there won’t be anyone to sing you to sleep at night?”

Teito sat up and looked at him directly even though it made his cheeks burn. “I’m asking you to stay with me, Frau. I want you beside me, no matter where I am.”

Frau opened his mouth but said nothing at first, putting his cigarette to his lips and sucking in a deep breath. The hand that held the cigarette shook lightly. “You realize what this sounds like,” he said after a minute.

Teito was shaking as well but kept his gaze level. There was the slightest cast of fear in Frau’s eyes. “I don’t care what it sounds like. What’s your answer?”

“I don’t think either one of us is in a position to be talking about this.”

“Why not?”

“You’re dependent on me because I come to see you so much. Once you get your head around what’s happened to you, you’ll realize I’m right. What you’re feeling right now is temporary.”

“Don’t talk about yourself like you don’t matter.”

“What kind of future would it be?” Frau said.

“One I choose.” Teito reached for him but Frau held his hand out of reach.

“You’re _human_ , Teito. You should live as a human.”

“I don’t care what you are. You are no less real to me.”

Frau stood up. “I’ve gotta go. Take care of yourself, kid.”

“Please don’t go yet.”

“Who was the one lecturing me about work before?” He stroked Teito’s hair, leaving his hand in place longer than he usually did. “Do you remember the verse I gave you, when you came to see me in prison?”

Teito licked his lips. “Barsburg Bible, volume three, verse seventeen.”

Frau nodded. “‘As long as I am within thee, my heart shall always be...’” His voice cracked. He stopped speaking for a few seconds and cupped a gloved hand to Teito’s cheek. “God be with you. Always.”

Teito turned his face into Frau’s palm, but his lips touched only air. Frau had gone, and all that remained of him was the faint scent of tobacco.

* * *

Frau didn’t come back the following night. Although there had been countless other times he hadn’t, Teito felt queasy as he fell asleep. He didn’t come back the day after that, either, or the one that followed. At first, Teito tried to rationalize his absence. Frau was important and couldn’t be expected to come every day. His frequent visits must have caused such a backup of work that it had required this much time to straighten out. He would come back eventually.

He _would_ come back.

Teito thought about him at odd times, such as during breakfast, frozen with his hand halfway across the table offering the bread basket, or during the walk between the vestry and the pulpit. Where was Frau right now? What was he doing in this instant? Did he think about Teito at all? They hadn’t known each other for the better part of two lifetimes, and yet Frau’s absence made Teito’s heart ache in a way that was different to how he’d ached for Mikage.

A week passed and then two.

A month.

Fourteen weeks.

A third of the year.

Leaves rained down from trees in the church gardens and the unforgiving winter winds blew down from the north. Teito was the rabbit that had been abandoned. It was impossible not to take it to heart.

* * *

He kept his days busy, throwing himself into chores as soon as he woke in his frigid dormitory, staying awake long after the final bells. He thought less when his hands were moving. He paid a long overdue visit to his mother and uncle, and traveled with Mikage to the mountains for a two-month stay with Hakuren following a blizzard that had made travel to the hospital impossible except by air, gladly donating his zaiphon where it was needed.

The quiet of the mountain allowed him too much time to think. As a child, he hadn’t understood why Capella had insisted to be the one to train him in how to use his power, or why everyone had encouraged him to use it with benevolence. Was there a record somewhere in Barsburg of the number of lives he’d taken? The army had forged a weapon from a child. _That_ , he wished he couldn’t remember.

His rage was nearly as great as his despair. Years of nightmares had once been his reality. He could do nothing about it but accept that it had happened. There was no reward in revenge even if his jailers could be held accountable, and without them, he’d never have met Mikage or been found by Frau or brought to this church. He might never have learned the truth about himself, instead living out his life as a beigliter, and his mother would have died in a coma. In that sense, he was almost grateful to them.

As time went on, he thought about Frau less frequently, but the pain didn’t diminish, and nights were the worst, waiting for sleep that sometimes never came. The snowfall here was as gentle as the snow had been in Raggs, and no less cruel.

* * *

Months in the mountains seemed to pass by in a week, and he was soon back to spending his days in the warm stillness of the greenhouse. Winter melted to a glorious spring.

“Teito. Teito?” said Labrador one foggy morning. He’d put a hand on Teito’s shoulder to draw his attention. “Where did you put the wormwood infusion? I’d left it to cool last night.”

“Worm...wood?” Teito glanced to the empty counter and then the shelves above. “I bottled those this morning. I thought it was more of your arthritis tonic for the archbishop.”

“They look similar. It’s nothing that can’t be undone.”

“I’m sorry,” Teito said, inclining his head.

Labrador smiled kindly. “You haven’t been yourself lately. I thought the time in the mountains would help, but you look more exhausted than you did before you left. Are you sleeping?”

“The mattresses at the hospital are a little…” Teito rubbed his neck.

“I see. It’s hard to sleep in an unfamiliar place, even if you’re tired. Which jars did you label this morning?”

Teito indicated two rows and began to pull them from the shelf.

“This won’t take long to fix,” said Labrador. “You should take the remainder of the day to rest.”

“I’m fine.”

Labrador smiled again. “Consider it an early birthday present. How will you spend tomorrow?”

“Tomorrow?” Teito said.

“You forgot,” Labrador said, laughing.

“It’s only a day.”

“Perhaps to you. You won’t go home? I’m sure your mother would like to see you.”

“She’s traveling,” Teito said absently. “An air cruise of the outlying islands.”

“How pleasant. You should have accompanied her.”

“That’s too much time away. There. That’s all of the jars.”

They made quick work of the labels and Labrador all but pushed him out of the greenhouse. “I’m going to analyze the data from the last clinical trial,” he said. “I prefer the quiet.”

Labrador lied about as well as Castor, which was to say not well at all, but Teito supposed he was no help in this state if Labrador was willing to put up the ruse. He changed into walking boots and took the main bridge out of the church, pausing at the gate to check the time. There was no threat to the church as there had been two decades ago, but the gates still closed at sundown.

The day had four hours left to it. Walking quickly, he reached the nearby town center and became happily lost in the buzzing crowd. He bought a sandwich and tea and sat on the edge of a large fountain to eat. Because of his robes, people called out to him and he spent most of an hour with his fingertips in the fountain’s water and his other hand raised in greeting. Capella had sent an invitation to the cultural center’s opening to be held in a month; perhaps he would take a short sabbatical. The fresh air and sunlight lifted his mood, and by the time the bells signaled the close of afternoon, he felt lighter.

For his birthday, perhaps he and Mikage would fly somewhere they hadn’t visited before. Or they could return to District 5, to the house awaiting demolition. It might be gone by now. He hadn’t stop thinking of it or of Raggs, of what Mikage would think if Teito moved them out of District 7 before he was even a fully-fledged bishop. If he were still human, would he be disappointed?

Teito spent the night in the stable, warm beneath the wing that had shielded him for eighteen years.


	6. Chapter 6

Mikage was gone when Teito woke up. He occasionally joined other Fyulongs on long flights, but he’d never gone off without saying goodbye. Teito had woken next to him on every birthday but this, and the aberration cast him into a gloomy mood.

The nuns had prepared a breakfast feast. Teito ate his fill of poached eggs and eyefish stew. He received tokens from boys studying for the bishop examination—sweets bought in town, vouchers for the film house. Castor presented an elegant box of chocolates sent from his butler in District 6, and Labrador gave him a young potted plant.

“Do you recognize it?” he asked as Teito examined the delicate leaves and red buds clenched like tiny fists.

“It’s a Bernirose,” Teito said breathlessly. “They used to bloom all over Raggs. Where did you find it?”

“I’ve been growing it from seed,” Labrador said with a smile. “I think it will be happier with you.”

“Thank you. I’ll take good care of it.”

“Bishop Teito?” Sister Rosalie leaned down to speak with him. “A number of gifts have arrived from the capital. What should I do with them?”

“Gifts for me?” Teito said.

“There are several from District 5 as well,” Sister Athena said and Teito suspected Capella was behind it.

“They shouldn’t have gone to the trouble,” Teito said.

“It’s an exciting day when the member of a royal family comes of age,” Castor said.

“I’ll come get them after breakfast,” Teito said to Sister Rosalie, who nodded and sat a little ways from him down the table.

“You look better today,” Labrador said quietly. “I’m glad to see you have an appetite.”

“Do you know where Mikage went?” Teito said. “He wasn’t there when I woke up.”

“I’m sure he’ll be back soon. He would never miss your birthday,” Castor said, adjusting his glasses. “Are you able to give me an hour of your time after we finish? The clinic in town is short-staffed. They could use your zaiphon.”

“Of course,” Teito said.

“In that case, have seconds,” Labrador said, already refilling Teito’s plate. “You’ll need the energy.”

* * *

Healing someone was the most gratifying part of Teito’s work. The effects of zaiphon weren’t always immediate, but he derived satisfaction from the first flicker of relief over a child’s face, the softening of worry on that of a parent’s. He was glad to spend his birthday at the clinic well past the hour he’d promised, tending to the winding line of patients in the street outside. It was high noon before he left, and the cloudless day was pleasant and growing warmer. He removed his gloves as he crossed the bridge, wondering what had been laid out for lunch.

Mikage intercepted him before he reached the courtyard, flopping onto his belly on a patch of green lawn, the sign that Teito was supposed to climb onto his back.

“Is this your apology for this morning?” Teito gripped two handfuls of his fur and pulled himself onto Mikage’s back. “Not too high. I don’t have a jacket.”

Mikage flew lower than he preferred to, keeping underneath the lowest layer of clouds. He didn’t seem to be in a hurry today, using the warm morning air to glide and beating his wings only as necessary to maintain altitude. It felt more like a casual flight then a trip anywhere, and since Teito preferred Mikage’s company above all others, he was happy to close his eyes and appreciate the sensation of the wind across his skin, grateful he had been granted a chance to reach this age. He still wished that he could have restored Mikage’s human life instead of his own, but he didn’t doubt Mikage’s current happiness.

“Where are we going?” Teito asked, but Mikage simply kept flying, though his body seemed to rumble with laughter beneath Teito’s legs. “If you’re going to drop me in the ocean again, you can forget about the starfruit I’ve been growing for you.”

Mikage grunted the same way he had that first time they’d flown together, as if to say not to worry. They’d both grown up quite a bit since then.

* * *

After nearly an hour of flight, he lowered his left wing and they tilted sideways toward the ground, arcing in a slow half circle until they faced the opposite direction and began the flight back home.

“Don’t you want to stop somewhere?” Teito asked, but Mikage stretched his wings to their fullest expanse and gave a happy cry.

The church was visible at a distance, gleaming white in the sun, the brightest point in District 7. The surrounding islands had no buildings like it. Teito could see a glimpse of the first district that housed Ouka’s palace. District 5 was too far away to see the castle, but Teito gazed on the spot where he supposed it stood.

There were several smaller airborne crafts in flight. Commercial liners flew at a higher altitude, but it was common to see personal transportation at this time of the day. A two-person hawkzile descended into the airspace over District 7. It bypassed the border checkpoint—small craft weren’t subject to search—and continued to the large public landing strip east of the city. Mikage seemed disinterested, dipping a wing toward the ground again and then lifting higher, so they soared in a large, smooth circle above the district.

“Not too high!”

With a dip of his head, Mikage dived toward the ground. It had been Teito’s favorite maneuver when he’d been ten and Mikage had finally become strong enough to carry him, but Teito’s stomach had long outgrown his fondness. He threw his arms around Mikage’s neck and groaned.

The free-fall halted. Mikage glided the last few feet until they were level with the ground and he touched down, cantering into a quick walk. He tucked his wings against his side, breathing hard, and stopped.

“You’re out of shape,” Teito said. Mikage rippled his back in a way that made Teito lose his balance. He managed to catch a fistful of fur before he fell. Mikage sat back on his haunches laughing. Teito gave him an affectionate punch to the back of his neck before sliding to the ground and walking around to his front.

“You haven’t wanted to come to the park for a while. Is it for my benefit?”

Mikage nudged him with his nose and licked Teito’s cheek, then bobbed his head to indicate that Teito should turn around. A short distance from them, a group of people were assembled around a picnic blanket: three wore white robes and the fourth was his mother, who stood when she saw him and opened her arms.

Teito scratched the fur on Mikage’s head, over his birthmark, and ran to her.

“What about your cruise?” he said and Millea began to laugh.

“You believed that I would miss your birthday?”

“Mikage flew to get her this morning,” Labrador said. “As well as this person.”

The bishop beside him turned around and Teito recognized his uncle.

“Father!” Teito said.

“I brought you a cake,” Kreuz said, patting an open spot on the blanket. “I’m supposed to tell you that Haruse sends his regards.”

“Come and eat,” said Millea.

Teito happily sat with them.

“The Empress wishes she could be here, but she was caught up with business,” Kreuz said.

“She sent a gift,” Castor said. “It’s back at the church.”

“And Hakuren?” Teito said.

“Late,” Hakuren called as he jogged toward him, away from a small trail of admirers, and knelt to wrap Teito in a hug. “Happy birthday.”

The food consisted of his favorites: a spiced meat pie served cold, buttered greens, strawberry dessert with Bavarian cream—blessedly free of the mysterious blue sauce Haruse’s cake shop had become notorious for peddling. Teito snuck bits of the greens to Mikage over his shoulder. It was one of the most joyous moments Teito had ever experienced, surrounded by people who had loved him across two lifetimes, but it made the absence of one person especially poignant.

“Isn’t Frau joining us?” Hakuren said after his second slice of pie. Kreuz’s attention sharpened, and Millea tilted her head to one side.

“Frau?” she said.

“Frau is a fellow bishop,” Castor said swiftly.

“He knew Teito in his past life,” Labrador added. “He works abroad.”

“How unfortunate he couldn’t celebrate with us,” Millea said.

“I’m sure he’s busy,” Teito dismissed with a forced smile, filling his mouth with a spoonful of cream so he couldn’t be expected to say more.

* * *

Kreuz asked to walk with him privately when they were through eating. “Allow me a few minutes with my nephew,” he said, smiling at the group, and took Teito by the arm. Like the others, Kreuz had gracefully aged over the years since his return. Teito owed him a debt of gratitude for seeing him through two childhoods; after all, Kreuz had been more like a father than an uncle to him. They walked together along the tree line. Teito was quiet.

“You seem down today,” Kreuz said. They were nearly the same height now, and Teito no longer had to crane his neck in order to speak to him. He glanced sideways.

“I’m sorry,” he said, but Kreuz smiled.

“You don’t have to apologize. Is it something I can help with?”

“I’m not sure.”

Kreuz cleared his throat. “It concerns me to hear you’ve made Verloren’s successor your confidant.”

“Why?”

“Because he deals in death. You’ve seen enough of that.”

“Please don’t ask me to do without him.”

“You’re as stubborn as your father.” Kreuz’s words carried no judgment. He patted Teito’s back and let out a sigh. “Eighteen years old. I’d once hoped to place a crown on your head on this day.”

Although he was honored, the image made Teito’s throat tight, his lips unsteady. He looked forward. “I visited the cultural center in District 5.”

“They’re doing important work.”

“I want to help them with it.” Teito swallowed. “I want to restore the kingdom.”

“Whatever your decision, you have my full confidence.”

“Why didn’t you want the crown?” Teito said. “Even now you could claim it, but you don’t.”

Kruez was thoughtful. “I was never like my brother. Krom was a natural leader; people obeyed him from the time he could speak. I was happy to be his support. I’m happy to be yours as well.”

“Why didn’t you go to the Pope?”

“I’ve spoken with him. I know of his willingness to recognize us. But when you were born, we vowed not to do anything that might interfere with your will or give you more information than necessary about who you’d been. If I’d become king, it would’ve been difficult to shield you from your history indefinitely. Eventually, you would’ve discovered who you had been.” Kruez took a breath. “We—no, _I_ feared that you would bend to obligation. You’re the closest I have to my own child, Teito. I couldn’t bear that.”

“Have I disappointed you?”

“No.”

“You wouldn’t be upset if I leave the church?”

“I would be disappointed if you did not follow what’s in your heart.”

“I’m not sure which is the right path,” Teito said.

“One might say they’re both right,” Kreuz said. “It’s up to you to decide which you want to travel.”

* * *

The picnic continued until after sundown. Since flying was cold at night, Castor offered lodgings to Hakuren and Millea and Kreuz for the evening. They stayed for supper, and afterwards Hakuren came to Teito’s room to talk and gush over his gifts, so it was quite late when Teito finally slept.

In the midst of a dream where he stood in a veil of falling snow, Teito imagined something heavy settle next to his feet. The sweet stench of Frau’s tobacco. It had been half a year since it last filled his room. What a needlessly cruel dream. But even so, he kept his eyes closed tight, willing the dream to continue as long as it could, willing Frau to stay with him a few seconds more, even in his subconscious.

Someone put a hand on his leg and shook him. Teito opened his eyes.

Frau, looking somehow small in his dark swell of robes, sat at the end of the bed with a cigarette in one hand and Teito’s ankle in the other. He stared blankly toward the opposite wall.

“Frau?” Teito pushed up on an elbow and blinked to clear the fatigue from his eyes, but Frau’s image didn’t waver.

“Hey, kid.”

“Where have you been?”

“Can’t you find someone else to sing you lullabies?”

“You’ve been gone for months. Didn’t you think I’d worry?”

“Teito...” Frau sounded exasperated. “Nothing’s gonna happen to me.”

“Why did you leave?”

Frau let go of his ankle and blew smoke into the room. “I thought if I gave you some space, you might forget all that stuff you were saying.”

“You thought I’d stop feeling like this?” 

“I’d hoped one of us might.”

There was warmth, like the first spark of a candle, in Teito’s chest at Frau’s confession. His heart seemed to both speed up and slow, pounding through every part of him, and what anger he’d been building evaporated. He crawled to Frau’s side and touched his shoulder.

“Was I supposed to spend the rest of my life wondering where you’d gone?”

“You spent most of this life without knowing me.”

“Not by choice!”

“I didn’t come here to fight with you, kid.” Frau ruffled his hair. “Happy birthday.”

“I’m not a kid,” Teito said, rubbing the sleep from his eyes.

“You’ll always be a brat to me.” Frau put out his cigarette against the stone wall and stood, extending a hand. “I want to show you something.”

Teito felt under the bed for his shoes and slipped them on. “What time is it?” he asked, pausing to hide a yawn in his arm.

“Late,” Frau said. “Don’t forget a jacket.”

“Are we going far?”

“Nah. Just up to the roof.”

“Why the roof?”

“If you’d put on your shoes and stop wasting time, you’d know already.”

Frau transported them to one of the church’s numerous spires. It was a warm spring night and beginning to drizzle.

“What’s so important you got me out of bed in the rain?” Teito said, arranging himself on the roof so he wouldn’t fall.

“Birthday present,” Frau said, settling next to him. “What do you remember about Relikt’s power?”

Teito thought a moment. “He could look backwards in time.”

“Good. Hold on to me. Don’t let go, no matter what happens.”

“Wait—what are you doing?”

“I said hold on!” Frau said, and around them the world began to spin.

It was like being inside of a cyclone. The sky whipped around them, turning light and dark and then light again so quickly it made his eyes ache. Flocks of birds were nothing but a smear and below, like swarms of insects in tidal waves coming over the bridge, he saw an entire generation of visitors to the church. The sound was like the roar of a hundred hawkziles. It stopped so abruptly, Teito felt queasy. He closed his eyes and held a hand to his mouth.

“Teito?” Frau said. “Sorry. I should’ve known that wouldn’t be the same for you.”

“It’s fine.”

Teito clutched Frau’s sleeve and tried to focus on his breath to settle his stomach. Within minutes, the dizzy feeling had passed and he slouched comfortably against Frau’s side. It was no longer nighttime but a frigid, sunny morning. The few clouds in the sky hovered at the horizon. Overhead soared a heartbreaking blue.

Teito rejoiced in the breeze washing over him. “What is this? Where are we?” he said as snow began to fall across the empire. He could see his breath in the air.

“This is the day you were born—the first time,” Frau said. “I thought you might want to see what the sky looked like.”

It was the loveliest gift he’d ever received. Teito’s hand found Frau’s wrist inside his robes and curled around it, his fingers pressing where Frau’s pulse ought to be, but he didn’t mind that Frau was cold.

“We could go over there, if you want,” Frau said, glancing away. “To Raggs, to see your folks.”

“Can I speak to my father?”

“They’re not aware we’re here. It’s like flipping backwards through a book. Doesn’t change what’s written.”

“Then I want to stay here with you.”


	7. Chapter 7

For hours, they watched the sun cross the sky. The surrounding rooftops had turned white with snow and it had settled unmelting on Frau’s hair and shoulders. Teito brushed it away, taking his time on Frau’s face, using his thumb to melt the snowflakes on his eyelashes.

“What’re you smiling about?” Frau said.

“I’ve never really liked the snow before now.”

Frau captured Teito’s hand and lowered it. “I’d planned on showing you Mikage’s birthday after this."

Teito shook his head. “Show me yours.”

Frau made a face. “Mine? What for?”

“I want to see the day you were born. What month was it?”

“July.”

“I never saw the house where you grew up,” Teito said and Frau snorted.

“Well, that’s cause there’s no one left. The empire rounded up all the Sky Pirates at the end of the war. That’s how I ended up at the church. I don’t even know if my family’s home is still standing.”

“Where was it?”

“You’ve never heard of the place,” Frau muttered. “Pretty sure I’m the only one left.”

“If there aren’t any more descendants in your family, what would have happened to Zehel after you…?”

Frau sighed. “If things hadn’t ended up the way they did, I don’t know what would’ve happened. I might have a relative I don’t know about somewhere, or maybe God woulda revived me indefinitely. Who knows.”

“I think you would’ve been a good father. Ouch! Why are you pulling my hair?”

“It’s your birthday and you’re worrying about me, you brat.” Frau snorted and released his grip. “Aren’t you supposed to make a wish?”

“I wish you’d learn some manners.”

“What more do you want from me, flowers? Don’t you get enough from Lab?”

“You would give me flowers?” Teito asked. Frau, looking oddly caught off guard, rubbed his eyes.

“If you want to see the day I was born, we better get going. Even though we’re in the past, time is still moving forward where we came from. We can’t have you missing your beauty sleep. I’ll never hear the end of it from Castor.”

“I want to see where you grew up.”

“Why do you care?”

“Why do you think it’s strange that I do?” Teito said. “You’re important to me, Frau. I want to know everything about you.”

Frau looked forward and licked his lips. For a moment he looked quite young, like the boy Teito had once pulled from the scythe. There was a rigidness to his posture that Teito had never seen before, like Frau was anxious, and although Teito knew it was impossible, he could have sworn Frau’s pulse fluttered under his fingertips.

“I don’t know if it’s even there,” Frau said eventually. “Without any inhabitants, it might have sunk by now.”

“Show me.”

The world spun faster this time and Teito felt he would truly lose his stomach. He pressed a groan into Frau’s shoulder, into the folds of black fabric.

When the motion stopped, he wearily opened his eyes. Frau’s hand formed a star on his back and was holding him upright. He’d transported them to a place Teito had never seen before: a tiny island not half a day across on foot, containing a single city arranged in concentric circles, like most cities in Barsburg.

“What is this place?” Teito asked, sitting a little upright.

“F-31. Sexy, huh? Some people called it Eden.”

“Your family ruled it?”

“The one in charge came from Barsburg, but we did just about everything else. There weren’t many people here besides us.”

“And Gido, he was from here too?”

“I don’t actually know where he came from,” Frau said. “He showed up after he’d been reincarnated. Claimed he was my dad’s cousin. I had no idea about him being Zehel. Worked out well for him, though. I get the feeling he was lonely before.”

“Were you lonely?”

Frau was quiet for almost a minute.

“Being lonely isn’t so bad,” he said.

Frau’s childhood home was a patchwork of architectural styles near the center of the city. It was the largest house of any nearby, three stories tall with hawkzile landing pads extending from the balconies on each level. Frau had set them down on an adjacent rooftop.

“We didn’t have much in terms of natural resources, so we built with whatever we could get. We were on good terms with Raggs—they’d provided us protection in the past—so a lot of supplies came from them.”

“Is that why you helped the refugees?”

Frau snorted. “Don’t give us too much credit. We did plenty of stuff purely for profit.”

From the west, a large airship that Teito recognized as the _Aegis_ emerged from the clouds and docked at the highest point on the house. A group of people waved from a doorway, gesturing at the crew and a man jumped from the craft, running toward the house. Teito had only a few seconds to look at him, but even a glance was enough to see that the man greatly resembled Frau, from his light hair to the breadth of his shoulders.

“That’s my father,” Frau said.

“What was he like?”

“Used to take me for rides when I was young. He was killed in a crash while I was still a kid.”

“I’m sorry. If I’d known, I wouldn’t have asked to come here.”

“Like I said, I’m used to death.” Frau ruffled Teito’s hair. “Seeing him now’s not going to upset me.”

“Should we walk through town instead?”

Frau looked down at him. “Shouldn’t you be getting back?”

“It’s still nighttime.”

Teito yawned as if to confirm it. The afternoon in the sun had left him tired. He would regret the lack of sleep tomorrow, but nothing and no one was going to take this memory from him. Frau transported them to street level, batting away the Kor that fluttered past whispering reminders.

They strolled along the wide main road on F-31, side-stepping people who could not see them. “I wish you would’ve joined us earlier,” Teito said. “We had a picnic.”

“You should spend your birthday with friends.”

Teito stopped walking. “What do you think you are to me?”

Frau averted his eyes and took out a cigarette. He flicked the lighter four times before it sparked. “I know what I _can’t_ be.”

“Why not?”

“You know why not.” He jabbed a finger into Teito’s chest and raised it suddenly to strike Teito under his chin. “You’ve got important stuff ahead of you, Teito. You don’t want to be the church’s enemy. Ask your uncle.”

“What about Castor and Lazette?”

“That’s different,” Frau muttered.

“How? How is that any different?”

For a few seconds, Frau looked like he might hit him or cry. “I wish he’d never unlocked your memories,” he said finally.

Teito set his jaw. “Stop saying that!”

“What the hell do you expect me to say?”

“I expect you to take me seriously. You were there for me when I lost Mikage. I thought I would be alone forever, but I wasn’t lonely as long as I had you. I can’t help the way I feel. If friendship is what you’re willing to give me, then I want yours for life, and the one after that, and the one after that. Just don’t ever make me live without you again!”

The first time Teito had been able to see Verloren’s scythe in Frau’s hands, he’d seen Frau’s look of disbelief when Teito showed no fear. Now, like that time, Frau appeared confounded by what Teito saw when he looked at him. His eyes were wide, the skin between his eyes creased. The cigarette hung loosely from his lips. There might have been a flush on his cheeks if he’d had a heartbeat. Teito seized the opportunity to hug him, snaking his arms around Frau’s body. Frau tensed, arms limp at his sides.

“Teito…” he warned.

But Teito was undeterred. “Just for a little while.”

Frau drooped against him. With his hand, he brought Teito’s head to rest against his shoulder and sighed. “I’ll take us back to the present now. Close your eyes. Reentry can be bumpy.”

Time came rushing back. It was still night, but the moon made it possible to see. The market they’d been walking through moments ago had crumbled, and nature had claimed several of the buildings, covering them in vines. There was no sign of human life, although the island wasn’t entirely abandoned: the hawkziles left behind had shed their equipment. One was roosting above what used to be a movie house.

“What do you know; it hasn’t sunk,” Frau said. “Hey, how much money do you think we could make if we sell a couple of these Skyrunners off?”

Teito stared at him.

“Fine, fine. You can let go of me now.”

Teito took his hand instead. Frau pretended to be annoyed but held his hand lightly and whisked them back to the dormitory. From the high vantage point, Teito could see the sky beginning to burn orange at the horizon.

“Sorry,” Frau said. “Doesn’t look like you’re getting much sleep tonight.”

“There’s a little time left.”  

Teito slipped off his shoes and got into bed still dressed, grateful for the warmth after hours of cold. His eyes fell closed almost immediately. If it hadn’t been for Frau’s scent in the room, Teito could almost believe he’d been asleep this whole time and that Frau’s visit had only been a dream.

“Thank you,” he murmured.

In reply, he felt the unsteady touch of Frau’s hand on his hair, of Frau’s lips hesitant against his forehead. Frau kissed him for a long time, so long that Teito’s body grew warm and his breathing heavy. He reached up to embrace him, but Frau gently pushed his arms down.

“Sleep while you can.”

Teito fought the exhausted urge to argue. Frau drifted a gloved thumb across Teito’s cheek, pausing at the corner of his mouth. His expression grew wistful.

“I was lonely every day before I met you.”

* * *

The morning bells rang too soon. Teito dragged his tired body out of bed in time for breakfast with his mother and uncle before they departed. He walked them to the stables, hugging his mother goodbye and promising Kreuz he’d visit again soon, then hurried to change into his better robes. He was thankful that Hakuren had decided to stay for a few days, allowing Teito to take a background role during the first service. The three cups of tea he’d drunk at breakfast weren’t enough to make his eyes fully open, but the way before him felt remarkably clear.

While Hakuren accompanied Castor on errands, Teito and Labrador spent the early afternoon in the church’s store restocking Labrador’s tonics, which were so popular they were hard to keep in stock. The proceeds paid for gardening supplies and greenhouse maintenance. He should have sent Teito to stock the shelves himself, but Labrador hummed as he worked, smiling as he set each jar in place and turned the label just so. He caught Teito trying to hide a yawn.

“Did you and Hakuren stay up late?” he asked.

“I didn’t sleep well,” Teito said.

Labrador climbed down from the ladder and touched Teito’s sleeve. “You have something to tell me.”

There was no sense in lying to him. Teito nodded.

“We’re finished here for today,” said Labrador. “Let’s go for a walk.”

They took the familiar path to the circular garden. It was a bright day, not a cloud in the sky, and when the sunlight struck Labrador’s hair, it appeared almost translucent.

“I love it here,” Teito said as they went along. “A part of me wants to stay here forever.”

Labrador looked at him and sighed. “So it’s come to this.” He led Teito to the bench beneath the tree where Frau had planted Bastien’s sapling. It had reached the lowest branch of that tree, which had shielded it since that day many years before. Labrador patted the place next to him and Teito sat down.

“This is not an easy life,” Labrador said. “It’s not what I imagined for myself, but it has allowed me the freedom to continue my work. If I’d never had this life, I would have been expected to marry and raise another generation of Krats. I probably wouldn’t have discovered a cure to the disease that would have killed me. And Castor…”

Labrador took a deep breath and tilted his head back so he looked toward the sky. “Castor is happy here. We’re happy here. Neither of us will hold it against you if you leave. If I were in your position, and I were given another chance…I believe I would be tempted.”

“I can’t bear to see the last of Raggs destroyed.”

Labrador touched his arm and smiled. “I will regret losing you as my apprentice. Have you told your uncle?”

“We spoke yesterday.”

“When will you leave? Immediately?”

“I think I should,” Teito said. “I need to meet with the Pope and the Empress.”

Labrador nodded, but a furrow appeared on his forehead. He studied Teito’s face for a few moments, and then his expression softened. “He is fortunate to have captured your heart.”

Teito blushed and turned his head away.

“Don’t look so troubled,” Labrador said with a laugh. “I’ve always hoped you would find love.”

“He says it’s not possible.”

“Don’t let it dissuade you. Frau pushes everyone away. His personality is a natural repellent.”

“I resent that,” Frau said from their right. Teito nearly jumped out of his robes butLabrador only laughed again.

“Eavesdropping is rude, Frau. You deserve that for listening in on a private conversation. I have things I need to attend to. Come and find me after, Teito.” Labrador pressed Teito’s shoulder before standing up and paused at the garden entrance, turning back over his shoulder to speak. “Frau, I’m sure Castor would appreciate it if you stayed for dinner today.”

“Yeah, yeah.”

Labrador left them. Teito kept his head down until he couldn’t hear Labrador’s footsteps anymore. He could see Frau from the corner of his eye. He had materialized on the ground beside Bastien’s tree and was resting his head against the trunk. He wasn’t smoking today.

“You’re really leaving, huh?”

“Yes.”

“You were my apprentice once. Don’t I have a say in this?” Frau’s nostrils were flared even though he didn’t need to take a breath.

“You’re angry.”

“Course I’m angry. I don’t want you giving up your life for other people again.” Frau pressed his face against the blade of his folded hands. “You would never have had to give it up in the first place if it hadn’t been for me. If I could’ve controlled that damned scythe…”

Teito crouched on the ground beside him and laid a hand on Frau’s arm. “We did what we had to do to save everyone else. Wasn’t that worth two lives?”

“I was already dead! If you would’ve let me–”

With both hands, Teito clasped Frau’s neck and smothered the rest of his sentence with his mouth. He’d never kissed anyone before, not the way he was kissing Frau. It wasn’t like kissing his mother on the cheek or the top of Mikage’s head. Frau’s lips were as cool as the rest of his body. He made a single noise of surprise and his eyes flew open. He stared at Teito, who took a deep breath and closed his.

Frau didn’t kiss back or resist. Teito moved closer, shifting his weight to his knees so he was kneeling over Frau–what a sight they would’ve been to anyone walking past, to see what must have looked like Teito embracing the air. They couldn’t have seen the way Frau’s hands shook, the way he gulped when Teito slid his hands to his jaw and opened his mouth.

Frau flinched and ducked his chin, covering his face.

“I’m sorry,” Teito said immediately, placing his hands on Frau’s chest. “I’m sorry. I don’t have any experience.”

“That’s what you’re apologizing for? Lack of experience?”

“I’m not like you!”

“I wasn’t twenty years old when I bit it and I’ve been with the church ever since,” Frau said into his hands. “What makes you think I have any more experience than you?”

Teito blinked. “You’ve never kissed someone?”

“Don’t tell me that was your first kiss,” Frau moaned.

“What if it was?”

Frau made a frustrated noise and dragged his hands down his face. “You should be kissing someone your own age. Actually, no, you shouldn’t be kissing anyone at all, your _excellency_ , but you _absolutely_ shouldn’t be kissing me.”

“Because I’m a bishop?”

“Yes, because you’re a bishop! And since you’re thinking of leaving the church, let me remind you what will happen: you’ll be expected to continue the royal bloodline. That means a political marriage. _Marriage_ , Teito, as in you’ll have a wife.”

“I’m aware of the expectations.”

“I’m not gonna be anyone’s concubine!” Frau snapped.

“Tell me you don’t love me, and I’ll never mention it again.”

“I don’t love you at all, brat.”

Teito settled on the ground next to him facing forward so they weren’t looking at one another anymore. “You’re a terrible liar.”

Eventually, Frau uncovered his face.

“I don’t want to see you throw this away,” he said. “I don’t want to see you throw God away.”

“How do you know this isn’t what God had planned for me?”

“What do you expect will happen now? You, me, and Mikage settling down somewhere? Your mom and uncle dropping by to visit? How do you plan on explaining to her that you live with someone she can’t even see?”

“That’s what you’re worried about? What my mother will think?”

“I’m sure she would rather see you with a family.”

“What does it matter what anyone thinks? If you need something in order to survive, then you need it regardless of what someone else sees.”

“Then I hope you and your dragon are very happy together.”

“That _includes_ you,” Teito said. “You say I keep you on the right path, that I’m your light. Have you considered it’s become the same for me?”

“I think I understand a little of what Verloren went through with Eve.” Frau rubbed his eyes and let his hands fall to his lap. “If I can’t talk you out of this, what are you planning to do next?”

“I’m going to request an audience with the Pope and ask him to recognize the Raggs Kingdom,” Teito said. “Then I’m going to ask Ouka to cede an island to me.”

Frau turned to look at him. “Huh?”

“I was Mikael’s last vessel. I was supposed to be king. I’ve been thinking about this ever since I visited Capella, that I want to restore my father’s vision. I want to prove he was right, that Raggs and Barsburg and Antwort can exist together in peace.”

“And you think the Empress’ll agree to that? To hand over a chunk of land?”

“Ouka wanted peace as much as I do. I have to believe this will work or there’s no point trying.”

“You don’t know the first thing about setting up a government.”

“No, but there are documents recovered from the castle. Capella is a lawyer. And if that fails, I know someone who can look backwards in time.”

“Don’t abuse my friendship,” Frau said.

Friends. Teito would accept it for now. “I won’t.”

They sat quietly for a long time. Petals from a nearby tree drifted down around them like the first snows of winter. Silent. Frau gradually relaxed, leaning ever so slightly into Teito’s side.

“You know...” he said. “The island we visited last night might not be so bad.”

Teito hummed his agreement. He shut his eyes, succumbing to the garden’s warmth and perfume, and slipped into a dream. In it, he saw himself in robes bearing his family crest, reaching for Frau’s hand as bells rang out from atop Raggs Castle.

 

 

x

**Author's Note:**

> Once upon a time, my Twitter dash was gushing about a show called _Yuri on Ice_ and I got sucked into the wonderful world of anime. _07-Ghost_ was the first series I watched on my own, thanks to Crunchyroll’s alphanumeric order. I liked the premise and fell immediately in love with the characters. 
> 
> Months after I’d finished the anime, I was still wondering what had become of them after they’d left District 7, so I ordered the books and devoured them in two weeks. I don't think I've ever cried so much reading anything. But Teito still refused to get out of my head, so I started writing this story. I spent many happy months dreaming up a future for him, and I’m grateful I had the opportunity to share it. If you made it this far, thank you for reading. ♥
> 
> I took liberties with Relikt's power and thank you for your indulgence. :-D
> 
> Please enjoy the [fanmix by karrenia_rune](https://archiveofourown.org/works/13992600) on Spotify!
> 
> If you're on twitter, [I hope you'll come say hello](http://www.twitter.com/museawayfic).

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [fanmix inspired by The Memory of Snow" by Museaway](https://archiveofourown.org/works/13992600) by [karrenia_rune](https://archiveofourown.org/users/karrenia_rune/pseuds/karrenia_rune)




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